Where is the Edge
by swAhILi2011
Summary: It started as a small conflict between France and Engalnd, but soon the whole world was in. It would change everything, would tear apart old alliances, and create new ones. Is there any way to keep newly found love strong? GerIta, UsUk, SpaMano, others
1. Prolouge: The Price

A/N: I swore I wasn't going to write any Hetalia fanfic, but….I couldn't resist.

Use of both human and country names.

I have no idea where this is going to go quite yet, so the rating might change. Do enjoy.

oOoOoOo

"_It's the truth that you live by and die for,_

_It's the one thing you cannot deny;_

_Even though you don't know what the price is,_

_It is justified…"_

oOoOoOo

It was a stupid idea.

Not that anyone expected brilliance from him-after all, Italy had never been known for his brains. A wry smile lit his face, his brown eyes sad. No, this was a different kind of idiocy-the selfless, crazy kind that no one had ever thought possible, especially from him. But the time for his old frivolity was over, and he had changed.

Everything had changed.

It had started with an innocent fight between France and England. But oh, that was only the beginning. Too soon, other countries had chosen sides, and it had grown into a conflict even larger than the first two world wars combined. The constant threat of a nuclear winter kept the missiles from flying, but Feliciano knew all too well that someone would crack. Everyone assumed it would be Russia or America, though he didn't think that the latter would find blowing up rather heroic. He just hoped his trust in the once vivacious America wasn't misplaced. Not like it had been with-

_No, stop that_. He chastised himself, glancing around instinctively. He sighed in relief. No one was around, even though he'd made it at least fifteen miles past the border. But he was still wary, and his amber eyes flicked around. _Be on alert, Italy, _he heard the voice in his head say, _never let your guard down._ His old friend had constantly chastised him for his lack of caution, glaring at him with frosty blue eyes. How ironic, now. Now that Italy had thrown himself in this war, had been changed so much, had become one of the strongest nations in the war. _Wouldn't take much_, he thought, glancing at the land around him. The air was thick with smoke, and the sounds of far off gunfire never ceased. It was happening back at home, too-he could feel the constant fighting, the occasional bursts of bombing that sometimes floored him. Early on in the war, there had always been that constant presence at his side, to help him through it. But that was gone, and the blame was his…

Yes, he had accepted it, he knew it in the depths of his heart. The only reason he was here was because of his own stupid, horrible mistake, and that made his heart ache with sadness. He didn't want to be here-not under the current circumstances, anyway. But he didn't have much of a choice-he had felt the sharp pain of the invasion on his country just that morning, and Romano was near death from attacks by Russia and England, and now Germany. That was what had finally galvanized Feliciano into action-seeing his _fratello's_ eyes glazed over as he tried to whisper something, but it only came out a garbled, horribly faint noise. He had left the second his brother's eyes had shut again, swearing to put an end to this.

_Even if I have to do this…_

_Even if it kills me to…_

_I swear…_

He heard a gun go off from very nearby, and he ducked. There was still that part of him that wanted to retreat, to surrender, to wave a white flag and the world and run away like he'd always done. But that was no longer an option, and he gripped the gun in his hands determinedly. He had never killed before this war-never really even shot a gun except during the training sessions with Germany…

_Ludwig…_

He jumped up, surprising the soldier in front of him and let off several bullets into the man's chest. Despite the amount of times he'd done so since the awful war had started, the sight of the blood made him cringe and whisper under his breath.

"_Mi dispiace…"_

He hated this. Hated the war, hated England and France for starting it, hated himself for joining it, hated what it had done to him, to his friends…

He let his gun-wielding hand fall to his hip, sighing deeply. Everyone had changed-not just him, but Japan, France, Spain…even America had lost his spunk, his bright eyes now normally dull and sad. They all knew that even when this all ended, the world would be forever changed. Some nations had already been killed, and the thought brought tears to Feliciano's eyes as he continued forward. South Korea was the first to go, and then Latvia, Norway, Cuba…eight in total. _Maybe soon to be nine, _he added to himself, thinking about his brother's pale skin, the bandages that covered his body, the red that seeped through them…

A noise startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up, alarmed to feel the presence of another nation. He raised his gun, pointing it at the dark shape that was emerging from the trees. The other nation looked up at him, and though his heart skipped a beat, Italy didn't lower his gun. The blonde nation gasped, rasping quietly.

"Feli…"

"Don't call me that." Italy snapped, though he knew the other nation could tell he didn't really mean it. "You know why I'm here."

"Please, Fe-Italy, don't do this…" Blue eyes gazed up at him, pleading, as the other man fell to his knees. Ignoring the pang in his heart, Italy just shook his head sadly.

"I have to…you're killing _fratello_…."

"I don't have anything to do with that…Italy, I would never-"

"They're German troops." He cried, cursing the catch in his voice. "I'm not stupid, Germany."

"I never said you were…but Italy…Feliciano, I would never do that to you…"

"If it would help you win the war, you would." Italy accused him, though his voice was shaking, as was the rifle in his hands. Germany gazed up at him, blood running down the side of his face from an old wound. He was covered in them, as was Italy, and it was because of the constant fighting in their countries. Italy levelled the gun so it was pointing right between is old friend's eyes, ignoring the tears that dripped from his own.

"No, Feli...I would never hurt you….didn't I promise that? I didn't order that attack."

"How can I trust you?" Italy sobbed. "After everything…"

"Because I l-"

"Don't lie to me!" Italy's voice broke as he placed his finger over the trigger. Germany's eyes widened in horror, and his whispering voice was tinged with fear.

"Feli-"

"I told you not to call me that!" Italy cried, attempting to blink the tears from his eyes. "You lost your right to l-"

He suddenly stopped, hand flying to his chest as a pain gripped his heart. _Not now, _he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to look back down at the blonde man before him.

"See what you're doing to me?"

"It's not me!" Germany yelled, though it sounded more like he was begging. "I don't like seeing you hurt like this…Italy, please…don't kill me…"

"If I kill you, it will all be over." Italy's voice had gotten quieter, sounding sad yet angry at the same time. "If I kill you, England will back down, a-and so will Russia, a-a-and I can save _fratello_, and this whole stupid war will b-be over…"

"Italy-!"

"No! I won't listen to your excuses anymore!" Italy pointed the gun back between is former friend's eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Germany…I never wanted it t-to b-b-be like this…" the tears ran down his cheeks, "I d-d-don't want to…b-but…"

"It's alright." Germany bowed his head, a wry smile on his lips as he told the other nation. "Kill me. End this war before it destroys the world."

_Destroys you…_

He hadn't said it aloud, but it was almost as if he had. Italy's resolve faltered, but then he took a deep breath, whispering.

"_Mi dispiace…_Ludwig…"

Germany lifted his head and their gazes met for a moment before Italy's finger pulled back…

_BANG!_


	2. 1: The Edge of Life

A/N: Jumping back in time…

Ahhhh I really didn't even mean to write this story. But, you know, once the muses get a hold of you it's hard to tear yourself away…anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this.

I love reviews. They keep me going, so please drop me a few, k?

~Kira

oOoOoOo

"_And I can't be satisfied with okay,_

_And I can't be okay with alright;_

_So put me on the edge of life, we'll stand up on our toes;_

_Stretch my finger out to there and bring it back here…"_

oOoOoOo

Italy skipped along the street, humming a tune cheerfully. He had been invited over the Japan's house again, and he was very excited to see his old friend again. After the conclusion of World War II, they had both been too busy putting their countries back together to hang out, but it had been over sixty years since then and they had begun hanging out again. It made Italy very happy, considering Germany had been avoiding him for a while now. He claimed it was because he was too busy, but Italy suspected it was because of how he'd almost burned down Germany's kitchen last time he'd been at the house. He hadn't meant to, but the blonde nation had scolded him for several hours before sending Italy home. Since then, he had barely spoken to him, so Italy assumed he was still mad. He sighed, pouting-Germany really held on to grudges too much. It wasn't even that big of a deal, really…

"Ah, Italy-kun!"

"Japan!" Italy grinned, waving as he skipped forward until he was right in front of the Asian nation. "Ve, thanks for inviting me to your house!"

"Ah, it's no trouble, Italy-kun." Japan gave his upbeat friend a small smile. It surprised most that he and Italy had become close friends, what with their obvious personality differences, but he considered the auburn-haired nation to be one of his best friends. Italy always cheered him up, and he was always willing to listen to anything Japan had to say. There were also those rare times where Italy would get serious and would say something serious out of the blue, but those only made Japan admire him more. Italy was one of the only nations he'd met that was like that-even Romano, his brother, was quite different, moody.

"Ve, Japan, have you gotten any more of those video game things? Those were so much fun last time!"

Japan smiled warmly as he nodded, Italy's cheer making that warmth spread to his chest. Italy always made him feel happy, with even the smallest of comments. He was entirely useless in a war, but he made for it by being so kind and loving the rest of the time. And besides, there wasn't going to be any major wars, most of the countries agreeing that after the last war it would be too great of a risk. Italy wouldn't be forced to participate in one again, and somehow that made Japan feel very relieved…

oOoOoOo

"Germany? Oi, Germany, are you listening to me?"

Germany groaned at England's annoyed tone, replying in an equally annoyed voice.

"_Ja_, I'm listening, though I don't see why you had to come to _me_ to spout about your frustration with France."

"I thought it'd be best to get a second opinion on this, in case it turns to a fight."

"A fight? You mean a war?" Germany was furious, standing up from his seat quickly. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Look, I don't like it either, but if that fool doesn't let up it might just have to." England's large eyebrows furrowed together as he thought about the situation with France. The two had never gotten along well, but he thought that after the war they would be on better terms. They were, but it was short lived and France had begun demanding too much from him. They had been bickering about it for months, and it was turning nasty, hence England's visit to the fuming Germany's house.

"Do you have any idea what that could mean?" Germany's loud voice echoed through the room, and he punched his desk violently. "Haven't you learned anything from the last two?"

"It won't turn into that." England said firmly, and Germany actually growled.

"How do you know that? The same thing was said about the previous ones, Arthur."

England glared at the other nation for the use of his name, but his reply was.

"It won't."

"You don't know that! Damn it all, I thought you were smarter than this."

"I'm not stupid, Germany! But if Francis keeps attacking my country, I don't have many options, now do I?"

"You could try to talk to this out." Germany suggested, and England snorted.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you. What, has that pasta boy softened you that much?"

Germany felt his anger boil over and he reached out, grabbing England by the collar. England winced as the taller man's spit hit his face.

"Don't you dare talk about Italy like that!"

"Ah, so you haven't lost it." England smirked as Germany shook him, grinding his teeth.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Arthur Kirkland. Now, get out of my office before I punch you in the face." Germany set the other blonde nation down. England straightened his smile, still smiling. It was a bit sad as he turned to leave.

"I want you on my side, Germany. If this…if it turns into a war, I want you to stand by me."

"I won't make any guarantees." Germany replied gruffly, sitting back down in his chair. "I don't want to participate in another war."

"I know. Just…remember, if it does happen." England cleared his throat. "Thank you."

Germany didn't say anything as England shut the door, leaving him alone. His house had been so quiet for the past four years, ever since Italy had left. The thought made him sigh, running a hand through his gelled blonde hair. He hadn't meant to ignore Italy for this long, but every time he saw the ditzy man he had a weird, sort of tingly feeling. Not knowing what to make of it, he'd ignored the other nation, though he'd begun to regret it. He never thought he'd say it, but he missed having Italy around every day. He would always wake him up with a smile, having crawled into Germany's bed despite his several warnings to the smaller nation. He would follow him like a small puppy, yapping endlessly about whatever was on his mind (usually pasta, or art, or other frivolous topics), always with that cheerful smile on his face. Germany sighed again, leaning back in his chair. He knew he shouldn't have been so harsh on Italy-he still remembered quite the last time he'd seen him quite vividly…

"_What the hell were you thinking? Haven't I told you not to make a mess of my house, you idiot?"_

_He hadn't stopped yelling for over an hour now. Italy was sprawled on the floor, shivering slightly with what Germany supposed was nervousness. He scowled, pointing a finger at the airhead. _

"_What do you have to say for yourself, huh? You almost set fire to my whole house, Italy!"_

"…_._mi dispiace…" _Italy whispered, tears dripping down his cheeks. Germany groaned as he began to blubber._

"_Stop crying, you idiot! You've already apologized, I just want you to explain why you disobeyed me yet again!"_

"_I-I just wanted to m-m-make you breakfast, s-since you're always so n-nice t-t-to me…." Italy was stuttering, a habit of his when he got upset. He hadn't meant to make Germany mad, and the taller man knew that, but the sight of his partially burnt kitchen had pushed that to the back of his mind._

"_Have I not told you to wait for me if you want to use my kitchen?" he snapped, and Italy nodded with a wince at his harsh tone. Germany softened a bit, but he was still a bit annoyed. A beep alerted him of a text message, and he checked his phone. He opened it and, seeing it was from England, made an annoyed sound. '_I need to speak with you'_ was all it'd said. Germany glanced down at Italy and, with a sigh, said._

"_Go on home, Italy. I'll…I'll call you later."_

"_B-but Germany-"_

"_Just go, Italy." Germany said, realizing it'd been much sharper than he'd meant it to be as Italy's brown eyes widened. The small man stumbled as he ran out of the room, tears still running down his face. Germany felt a weird sensation in his gut at the sight, but he shook it off and started cleaning his kitchen. He tried to ignore the feeling, but the image remained locked in his head…._

Ever since then, he had been avoiding Italy, to try and stop that weird feeling in his chest. But somehow it only seemed to be getting worse as the time passed, and he found his hand constantly reaching for the phone, that had once rung so often with the younger nation's frantic pleas for help. But Italy was respecting his need for space, and not a single call had come from him since Germany had told him to leave. Italy was so considerate sometimes, and the thought only made Germany miss him even more. He sighed, annoyed at himself for wishing it, but he found himself reaching for the phone again. He dialled Italy's number automatically, not giving himself time to debate the matter. The phone rang twice and he held his breath until, just before the last one, he heard a click, and Italy's sweet voice filled his ear…

oOoOoOo

"So, how are you and Doitsu-san getting along?"

Italy made a face, sighing dramatically. He and Japan were sitting in the latter's living room, as Japan was putting away the gaming system. They had been playing for hours, chatting amiably, but it was late and Japan decided it was time to head off to bed. He had asked the question, having not heard Italy mention their former ally, which was unusual. Usually Italy nattered on and on about their blonde friend, but he hadn't even made a single comment about him and Japan was curious.

"We get along fine." Italy answered, a little evasive, and Japan raised a black eyebrow curiously.

"Really? When was the last time you saw him?"

"Ah…about four years ago, I guess." Italy laughed, though it seemed a bit nervous. "I almost lit his house on fire, so I guess he's still a bit mad at me…but ve, Japan, we should be getting to bed-"

Both he and Japan jumped slightly at the sound of the cheery ringtone of Italy's phone from the other room. Italy trotted off, rummaging through his bag for a few seconds before finally rescuing the small device just before the final ring. He flipped it open, not bothering to look at the caller id.

"_Pronto!_ This is Feliciano Vargas, may I ask who's calling?" There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line and Italy cocked his head. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"…_hallo_, Italy…"

"Eh, Germany?" Italy sounded genuinely surprised at the voice on the other end. He heard the other nation sigh.

"_Ja, _Italy, it's me. Um…I was just wondering how you were doing, and, you know…"

"Ve, Germany called me!" Italy laughed, surprising the German on the other end. "I'm so happy! I thought you were mad at me!"

"I was, but I'm over it." Germany replied, a strange inflection in his voice. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you, Italy. It was uncalled for, and I know I upset you."

"Oh no, it's fine! I was being stupid, and you should've scolded me for being so." Italy assured him, and he heard Germany make a 'tsk' sound.

"No I shouldn't have." He sighed again. "I was very rude to you. I especially shouldn't have ignored you the way I have, it's very childish and petty."

"Ve, it's fine, Germany. I don't mind, as long as it makes you happy." Well, that wasn't really true. Italy had been rather lonely the last few years, but he didn't want to make Germany feel bad. But the other nation guessed some of his thoughts and asked.

"Have you been hanging out with anyone lately?"

"Well, I'm at Japan's house right now." Italy replied, keeping his voice light. Germany knew him far too well, he realized. The man knew exactly when he was lying, even over the phone.

"That's good. Have you been seeing anyone else?"

"Not really. Everyone's been rather busy, ya know?" Italy smiled even though Germany couldn't see it. Germany made a small surprised noise.

"Busy with what?"

"Well, England and France have been fighting again, and America and Iraq have something going on, and everyone else is busy doing something or another." Italy's answer was frank and light, but Germany heard something behind it that made him curse under his breath. He could hear the loneliness that tinged his friend's voice, and he knew why-Italy was one of those people who needed constant companionship. Without having anyone around him, Italy got lonely quickly, but he was also too kind usually to interrupt people when they were busy. Before, he had only interrupted Germany, and that was only on a few occasions. But thinking Germany was mad at him, he would have kept his distance…Germany cursed again, and he heard a confused sound from Italy's end.

"Ve, Germany, is something wrong?"

"_Nein_." Germany replied, knowing Italy would just deny it if he said anything. Italy was just like that, and it annoyed Germany sometimes. Was it maybe selflessness? Yes, that seemed like the right way to put it. Italy may have sometimes been a coward that ran from everything, but with emotions he was rather selfless. He was too kind to want to put any pressure on anyone else, though only in the emotional sense. Germany snorted as he thought of all the calls he'd gotten from his friend, asking him to save him, to fend off somebody…once, to tie his shoes. He chuckled at the memory, and he heard Italy laugh lightly as well.

"Ve, Germany is laughing. Are you in a good mood?"

"I am now." Germany replied without thinking, and then he blushed. "I mean…_ja._"

Italy giggled, glad he had cheered his friend up. With all the tension in Europe, he knew Germany had to have been brought into it, and after the last war he remembered Germany stating that he never wanted to take part in another one again. Not that it was a war; not yet, anyways…

"I have to go to bed now, Germany, but thank you for calling!" Italy's voice was very light a gleeful, and the sound of it lifted Germany's heart even though the other nation was saying goodbye. "I'll call you when I get back home, 'kay?"

"Alright." Germany said gruffly. "I guess I'll talk to you later. _Guten nacht_, Italy."

"_Ciao!"_

Italy shut his cell phone, beaming. He was still grinning happily when he walked back into the living room where Japan was still.

"Sorry for being rude, Japan, but Germany called! He isn't mad at me anymore!"

"That's wonderful, Italy-kun." Japan replied, smiling softly. Any hint of sadness he had seen before was replaced with the glee of finally gearing from Germany. He was glad that Italy had made up with their mutual friend, especially with what was going on in the world. Both of them knew just how much the frivolous nation hated it when people fought, and all the conflict going on must have been rather saddening to him.

"Ve, and he even said I can call him back! He really isn't angry at me!" Italy's grin made Japan's heart warm once again, and he was surprised when Italy threw his arms around his neck. "I'm so happy!"

"I-I'm glad you're happy." Japan replied, feeling rather awkward until Italy decided to let him go. The auburn-haired man beamed, darting off back to his room.

"I'm going to bed now! See you in the morning, Japan!"

"A-alright." Japan replied, staring after the other nation as his own smile spread wider. Germany and Italy were talking again, which meant that Italy wouldn't be lonely anymore. He didn't want his friends to be at odds with one another, and was glad they'd made up. He went to sleep that night peacefully, knowing that the nation in the other room was as well.

But soon, neither of them would be able to-in fact, soon the entire world wouldn't.

It was only one week later when it finally happened…

oOoOoOo

Ja-"Yes" in German

Mi dispiace-"I'm sorry" in Italian

Pronto-How Italians answer the phone, literally means "ready" (I kid you not)

Nein-"No" in German


	3. 2: Never Understood

A/N: And this is where the shit hits the fan.

America has a bit of a potty mouth. Just so you know.

ALSO I will be doing a little contest with the song lyrics at the beginning of each chapter. For each three a single person figures out (title and artist), I will write them a one shot with whatever pairing and situation they want. Sound good? (It won't be that easy…good luck!)

Reviews? Please?

~Kira

_oOoOoOo_

"_So afraid to open your eyes, hypnotized;  
You know you're not the only one;  
Never understood this life,  
And you're right, I don't deserve;  
But you know I'm not the only one…"_

oOoOoOo

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

England glanced up at the furious sandy-blonde in his doorway. He lowered his head back into his crossed arms moodily, leaning onto his desk.

"Look, Alfred, I know you don't approve-"

"Like hell I do! What were you thinking, declaring war on France? That's just plain stupid, Arthur, and you know it." Alfred glared at him, deep blue eyes hostile. "This is going to turn into another World war! Hell, it could end in a Nuclear war, and we all know what will happen with that."

"I'm not stupid." England reminded his ex-colony, annoyed at the second person to insinuate that. He knew America wasn't the only one angry at his decision, but he didn't have any options left after France refused to back down. It had started as an argument over the past, and had soon morphed into a violent conflict like always. But they had crossed a line, and both nations knew it. America's fury was mirrored by many of the other countries in Europe, but…_well, what's done is done._

"So you're going to fight a stupid god damn war just to prove a point to France?" Alfred snapped, "Bringing down all of Europe with you, right? You're so selfish, Arthur!"

"It won't just be Europe, Al…" England said quietly, hiding his face in his arms. "It won't stay that way for long, and you know that-otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Well, I for one do not want to be dragged into another one of Europe's fucking wars!" America replied. "Matthew doesn't either!"

"Look, I didn't want this to happen either!" England's head shot up, his fists clenching on his desktop. "But I can't do anything about it now!"

"Just apologize to France!" America told his former sovereign country. He still harboured some respect for the older nation, but he was normally too pissed at England to notice any compassion. England just found every single way to piss him off sometimes… "Damn it, Arthur!"

"Look, Alfred, just listen to m-" England's phone rang, and he picked it up with a begrudging sigh. "Hello, Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He sighed again as Germany's voice filtered through the phone. He held it a few inches from his ear so that his eardrums wouldn't break.

"Germany, this isn't really the time-"

"Then when is it, England, you bastard?" Germany yelled, and England could see the angry nation's face in his mind quite clearly. Eyebrows furrowing in annoyance, England replied.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you annoying wankers any more. I just need to know who's on my side."

"I'm fairly certain I gave you my answer when you were over here, Arthur. I will not participate in another pointless war."

"It's not pointless, Germany." England reminded him. "We can't have France stepping over his boundaries. Besides, with you and Alfred on my side this will be over all too soon."

"Who said I was on your side?" America cut in, adjusting his glasses and shooting England a hostile glare. England just glared back, continuing his conversation with Germany.

"Besides, _Ludwig_, need I remind you of how much you owe me, after destroying my economy after World War Two?"

He could hear Germany sucking in a breath, and then letting it out in a frustrated sigh. After a long silence, he finally grumbled.

"Alright. Fine, I'll….I'll join you..."

"Good," England let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Germany."

"…but I have one stipulation for my allying with you." Germany finished, sounding a bit strange to England's ears, but the Brit couldn't place it.

"And what is that?"

"Don't you dare pull Veneziano into this." Germany said, a scowl in his voice. "Do you hear me? He won't have any part in this war."

"Sure." England replied, surprised by the request. "I wasn't planning on dragging him into it anyway. I'm not a sadist or a fool, Germany."

"You have to swear." Germany said tersely, and England sighed.

"Alright, alright, I swear, is that good enough for you?" England snorted, muttering. "Besides, who would want that idiotic, useless twat on their side?"

"Don't insult Italy." Germany snapped, surprising England. But then again, they had all realized that Germany's one weakness was the adorable young idiot. Even after the second war, when most of the other countries had drifted back to their old alliances, Italy and Germany had become inseparable. But England had always assumed it was a one-sided friendship. _Apparently not, _he thought, sniggering.

"Alright, I won't talk about your dear little friend. " Germany scowled, making as if to say something when England cut him off. "Anyway, I have America here, so I should probably get back. I'll invite you over in the next week or so to discuss details."

There was a _click_ as Germany hung up, and England placed down the phone, muttering.

"He could at least say goodbye, the git…"

"He's probably angry at you, and I can't say I blame him." America's blue eyes were hard and England could see the anger boiling inside the young nation. "That was low of you."

"What, coercing Germany, or making a comment on Italy's idiocy?"

"Both." America snapped. "That was a fucking awful thing to do to someone you want to be your ally."

"I don't have much of a choice, Alfred!" England yelled, his voice carrying an edge of panic as he stared at his hands. "No one's going to side with me out of friendship anymore, Al…not after the other war…"

America felt his heart soften slightly as he saw England's hands beginning to tremble slightly. He walked the couple of steps up to his old protector, grabbing those worn hands in his. England looked up at him, surprise evident in his emerald eyes as America spoke softly.

"I'm sorry...Arthur, I…I didn't mean to yell at you, it's just…you _know_ I don't want to be in another war. Nobody does-you heard Germany."

"I know." England whispered morosely. "But…I'm out of options, Alfred. Please….I need you to be on my side…"

"…I am on your side." America finally said, sighing and shutting hid eyes behind his lenses as he added. "I'm going to regret this later."

"I think we all will." England murmured grimly, with a small smile. "But thank you, Alfred…thank you."

oOoOoOo

He was lying.

He had to be…Italy paced his room, biting his lip anxiously. Romano had just come back from Spain, with horrible news. But he refused to believe it, because it was just too awful. England had supposedly declared war on France the day before, and many of the nations had been stirred up by the actions. A few had already declared neutrality, and Romano was one of them. He was trying to convince Italy to so the same.

"_Fratello_, you dumbass, you can't be a part of this war." Romano told him, trying to keep up his angry façade, but his worry for his brother was overpowering it. He knew for a fact that Veneziano hated fighting, and had only joined the second war because of Germany. But Romano didn't have the heart to tell his brother that Germany had already chosen a side, knowing it would only push his brother into it.

"B-but Romano, what if they ask me-"

"Just declare your neutrality and they'll leave you alone." Romano snapped, frustrated. Veneziano was weak, but he always wanted to do his best to help as much as he could. Romano just hoped no one would try to ask Italy to join the war, because the nation would cave far, far too easily, and where one Italy went…Romano sighed, and Veneziano looked at his brother, amber eyes wet with tears.

"_F-fratello…?_"

"Just…promise me you won't get dragged into this. _Per favore, _Feliciano…"

The use of his name startled the teary Italian, and he reached out to grab his brother's arm.

"I'll…I-I'll try, _fratello_, I'll…try…."

oOoOoOo

"_Mon dieu_…"

France ran a hand through his gold locks, frustrated. No one had joined his side yet, and England already had Germany and America. He had sent a letter out to Canada, hoping old bonds were enough incentive, but it would be nowhere near enough to counter the German-American threat. He needed more forces, and an equal ally….

He sat up straight, a grin spreading on his face. There was an easy answer to this problem, one that would be like child's play. It would take one quick visit, and then…yes, it was perfect. The younger nation would be easiest to coerce, and he'd heard rumour of a decent amount of troops…France rubbed his hands together, chuckling in a way that reminded him eerily of Russia…

His door swung open, revealing a man with greyish-blonde hair and a long pale-lavender scarf. France felt an involuntary shudder run through him.

_Speak of the devil….all too literally…_

"Ah, Ivan, what brings you here?"

"I heard you are looking for allies, da?"

"_Oui…_" France said, glancing cautiously at the taller man across the room. Russia smiled, sending another chill down the Frenchman's spine.

"I am thinking I will join you. America is on the other side, da?"

"_Oui_." France repeated, and Russia's eerie smile grew a bit.

"Then I will join you. You are going to be in need of weapons, da? I have many of weapons, though I fear not many of the troops…"

"I have a plan to get some." France told his new ally. Russia raised one pale eyebrow curiously, and asked.

"Who?"

There was a wry smile on France's face as he told the other nation, feeling a stab of regret in his gut for what he was about to do….

oOoOoOo

Italy was sitting out in his garden, watching the sky with a rare frown on his face. Romano had gone off that morning to go announce their official neutrality to the other countries, leaving his younger brother behind to sit and think on the upcoming war. It had just been announced right after Romano left that Russia had joined France's side, and with him came the Baltics, so the sides were becoming more evenly matched. He had also finally learned that Germany had chosen to join England, and the thought made him sad. He'd hoped Germany would have stayed neutral too, so that Italy could see him again after they'd finally started talking again. Germany had been the one to call him the night before to announce his alliance and Italy had been forced to tell him that he was remaining neutral. Surprisingly, Germany had sounded…relieved, almost happy, to hear the news.

"_Keep it that way, Italy, alright? Please?"_

Italy sighed, throwing his arms out so that they landed on the soft grass. He couldn't talk to Germany now without having to worry about the political implications, and he hated it. He just wanted to yammer on about pasta, and gelato, and all the other nonsensical topics he always did, but even that could make it seem like he was choosing sides. He already missed his old friend, despite the fact that only one night had passed, and he missed those few decades of near peace. He wanted…

"Veneziano?"

He jumped at the sound of a deep voice, turning swiftly to see someone making their way around the corner of the house. Italy felt his heart skip a beat when he recognized the other nation, and there was a hint of fear in his voice as he whispered the name.

"B-Big brother France…?"

oOoOoOo

Per Favore-Please (in Italian)

Mon dieu-My God (in French)

Da-Yes (in Russian. Russia tend to end sentences with it as well.)

Oui-Yes (in French)


	4. 3: Not as Brave

A/N: France and England are being such jerks! DX but they're desperate, I guess…

I keep switching between Italy/Veneziano/Feliciano. Sorry if that's confusing, it just usually depends on the situation he's in. I hope it's not that confusing (if it is I'll change it)

Props for anyone who knows this song :D

oOoOoOo

"_Weep for yourself, my man,  
You'll never be what is in your heart;  
Weep, Little Lion Man,  
You're not as brave as you were at the start;  
Rate yourself and rake yourself,  
Take all the courage you have left,  
Wasted on fixing all the problems  
That you made in your own head…"  
_oOoOoOo

"B-big brother France…?"

The blonde man nodded, his face solemn as he made his way over to the small Italian. Italy stood up, brushing the dust off his clothing as he forced a smile.

"_Buon giorno__, _what brings you here on this lovely afternoon?"

France winced at the fake cheer in Italy's voice. It had been almost half a century since he'd heard that falseness, and it made him feel even worse for doing what he was about to do. However, he just plastered a similar smile on his face and replied.

"I just wanted to have a chat with you, Veneziano. Shall we go inside?"

Italy nodded, leading the way inside the small house he now shared with his brother. Ever since the unification they had been living together, though it wasn't always a very pleasant atmosphere. Romano had even insisted that they sleep in separate rooms, and locked his door so his younger brother couldn't crawl into his bed in the middle of the night. Italy sighed at the memory, but France didn't comment on it. In fact, he didn't speak again until they were in Italy's small, unorganized office. Italy sat on the edge of the desk, letting his short letting his short legs swing.

"S-so, you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"_Oui, _and I think you know what it is I'm going to ask."

"_Si_." Italy said quietly, refusing to meet the other's gaze. "But _fratello_ and I are declaring neutrality, Big brother France…we don't want to take part in this war…"

"Would you rather choose, or just get dragged into it unwillingly?" France asked, his voice turning cold. Italy winced, his voice soft when he answered.

"Neither, I hope."

"You won't get much of a choice, Veneziano." France told him, reaching forward to grab the younger nation's hands. "I'm only asking this so that I can protect you. If anyone decides to attack you-which you know they will, neutral or not-you won't be strong enough to protect yourself."

"_Fratello_ will help me…"

"Your _frère _has just as much military strength as you do, Veneziano."

"B-but he's much stronger than me." Italy argued, his gaze still on his swinging feet. "And everyone knows I'm u-useless. Why would you even want me?"

"You're not useless." France assured him, knowing it was partly a lie, but what else could he do? Italy finally looked up, mahogany eyes wide.

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do." _Another lie, another damn lie._ "If I didn't think you would be of help, Veneziano, would I have come here to persuade you knowing you wanted to remain neutral?"

"…" Italy didn't reply, knowing that he really shouldn't buy into it, but France sounded so sincere…. "You really want me as your ally?"

"_Oui, _I do."

Italy paused to think some more, his mind going first to his brother, then…

Germany.

He let his gaze fall back to his lap to hide the tears that sprung at the thought. Germany was on England's side, not France's. They wouldn't be allies-they would be enemies. Italy didn't want to be his enemy, didn't want Germany to hate him again, but France looked so serious…and he'd said he actually wanted Italy on his side. Even Germany had never told him that. Germany always looked horrified when Italy told him he was on his side, but France had said he wanted him, he _wanted _Italy…But Germany…

Italy looked back up at France, blinking the tears out of his eyes as he gave his answer.

"…no…"

"_Non_?"

"No." Italy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from shaking with nervousness. "I-I can't, _mi dispiace_, but…_fratello_ told me not to join this war, and I-I really don't want to, _Francia_, I don't like f-fighting, a-and getting hurt…b-but _per favore_, don't get mad at me, _Francia_…"

France took a deep breath, willing himself not to yell as Italy curled his legs up, burying his face in them so the older nation couldn't see his face. However, it soon proved too difficult to retain his composure, so France finally let all his annoyance out on the small Italian.

"I will get mad at you! I need people on my side and I can't have you not join me just because you're too _worried_ and shit! Damn it, Feliciano Vargas, you WILL join me, whether or not you want to!"

Italy squeaked as France pulled him off the table, bringing their faces close so that amber met fierce blue.

"_F-Francia-!"_

"You're coming with me, you hear me?"

Italy was forced to nod, deathly afraid of the anger in France's eyes, even if he knew it wasn't all directed at him. France dropped him, letting the small man drop to the ground with a thud. Italy cried out softly, wincing as France turned away.

"Grab your things, we'll be leaving in fifteen minutes. Contact your _frère_ as well."

Italy nodded, not moving until he heard the door shutting behind the Frenchman. He moved slightly, wincing –there would be bruises later, he could feel it. He groaned, pushing himself to his feet gingerly and making his way over to the door. He peered around the frame, glancing furtively to make sure France was nowhere to be seen. He ducked into his room, letting tears leak from his brown eyes as he pulled out the large suitcase he kept under his bed and piled clothes in it haphazardly. When he found his most current military uniform he pulled it on, figuring it was the best choice. He pulled off his everyday clothing, cursing his trembling limbs, but he couldn't really help it-he was terrified. France was forcing him into the war, a war he'd wanted no part in, and Italy knew that Romano would be forced to join as well, all because he was too weak to oppose the older country. He felt more tears sliding down his cheeks and wiped them off on his black undershirt. He hated it, hated how weak he was…his only real show of strength, against Turkey, had been centuries ago, and he'd always believed that even that victory was pure luck. He was useless in battle, even though France had said…

_But he was lying….he just wanted you to join him….and he knew you would, because you're too weak to say no…_

But he had said 'no'. He had initially stood up to the older nation, and even that small action had surprised him. Italy had never refused one of the older nations, because he knew just how much stronger they were. But that same weakness made him not want to fight, and maybe that weakness was stronger than the other…

A sharp knock startled him from his thoughts, and he quickly did up the last few buttons on his coat. He then shut his suitcase and picked it up, glancing around the room to make sure he had everything important. Spotting a picture of him, Germany, and Japan from the last World War, he grabbed it and shoved it into the pocket of his suitcase, a sharp pang in his heart as he did so. He'd need to contact Germany as soon as he could, to apologize, to let him know how sorry he was for letting himself get drawn into the conflict. He'd have to sneak past France though…

"_Dépêchez-vous_!"

Italy jumped, nodding to no one in particular as he glanced around his room one last time before walking toward his door with a dejected sigh.

_Mi dispiace, fratello, Ludwig…I'm sorry…._

oOoOoOo

Romano was fidgeting, waiting outside the room where both his and his brother's superior was, waiting for their answer. He knew they were making the right decision, not choosing sides, but he knew it would wreck their relations with some of the other nations. He felt especially awful about Veneziano, who was so friendly with many of the nations-it would probably sadden him, not being able to speak to them. But it was the best option- Romano took a deep breath, preparing himself to walk in, when a beep from his phone distracted him. He flipped it open, surprised to find a message from his brother. Assuming it was something stupid like it usually was, he opened it to glance quickly, freezing when he read the first sentence-

"_Mio fratello, please don't be mad, but Francia came to our house, and he made me go with him. I tried to tell him no, but he wouldn't listen, and now he says I have to join him, and I really don't want to, fratello, but he grabbed me, and he looked really angry, so I'm with him on the way to his house, but I'm really scared, fratello, and I don't know what to do…mi dispiace, I tried to stop him, but…"_

The message ended there, but Romano knew the ending to the sentence-_but I'm weak._ He swore under his breath, drawing the glances of the two guards by the door. Damn that French bastard, threatening his brother. He would be the first to say that Veneziano was weak, but he also knew that France had gone too far, actually bullying his brother. Sure, everyone bullied Veneziano, but that didn't stop the anger from boiling in Romano's gut. He looked at the message again, noting the run on sentence-Veneziano was afraid, and flustered. He probably thought Romano would be mad at him, but it wasn't his brother that made Romano's stomach coil with loathing.

_Damn that French bastard…_

"_Signore _Vargas?"

He looked up to see their current Prime Minister standing in the now open doorway. Romano shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a light snarl. The old man raised his eyebrows.

"Is there something the matter, _signore _Vargas?"

"France coerced my brother into joining his side."

"_Che cosa? Perché?"_

"I don't know. What bastard in their right would choose that idiot for an ally?" Romano may have been insulting his brother, but he was also extremely worried. What if France had hurt his brother? Italy never stood up for himself, and he got injured easily. He turned away from the Prime Minister, ignoring the old man's cry as he stalked away angrily. France was going to pay for touching his brother…

oOoOoOo

"Italy has joined France."

Germany's heart leapt to his throat, almost dropping his phone. He growled, yelling into it.

"Don't fuck with me, Gilbert!"

"Why would the awesome me lie to you, _bruder?_" Prussia sounded egotistical as always, but he also sounded rather peeved. "I just got the news from a weepy Elizabeta, who got it from Austria, who got it from-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Germany snapped, willing his beat to stop trying to beat out of his chest. "Are you sure?"

"I wish I wasn't, but…_ja_." Prussia heaved a sigh. "North was brought to France's house last night, and an apparently fuming south joined them a few hours later."

"You make it sound like they were unwilling." Germany said, a hopeful note in his voice. Prussia just sighed again.

"The original source claims that Veneziano was bawling his eyes out the whole time, and has been since. South Italy is furious, and keeps screaming at France to let them go. But I don't know how truthful the source was, considering it was Russia."

Germany swore vehemently under his breath, all too clearly imagining Italy's amber eyes, the salty tears splashing down pink cheeks…he scowled. France was going to pay for making Italy cry. Germany wanted to see Italy, but he knew that would be near impossible now that they were on opposite sides. But still…he wanted to see him. That tingling feeling was back, even worse than before, and it carried with it a dull ache of worry. He slammed the phone down, not bothering to say a farewell to his brother. He stood up, slamming his hands down on the desk, ignoring the pain the shot up his arm. He needed to see Italy, but he couldn't…the ache increased, and he sat back down, shutting his eyes and letting them drop into his now sore hands.

_Italy….I want to see you…._

oOoOoOo

Sneaking out was the easy part-France had put him on the first floor of his house, in a small room a few down from his own. Romano was next door, and Italy had listened to his angry pacing for several hours before deciding he wanted to go see Germany. He jumped out the window, landing with a crash into the bushes below. He froze, making sure no one had heard, and then he took off, his bare feet slapping the pavement-he'd hadn't wanted to risk going to the hall to grab his boots. He did at least have a coat on over his pajamas, which was good because it was early March and the air still held a bit of a chill. He shivered a bit, tugging up the collar. He needed to make it in time for the last train to Germany, which left in twenty minutes. He sped up, already feeling the ache in his legs, and he frowned. Stupid, weak legs-just like the rest of him-no, no time for negative thoughts now…in just a few hours, he'd be with Germany again. The thought cheered him up and boosted his speed marginally, making it so that he still had five minutes before the train departed. He dug out some euros and slapped them on the counter, panting. The woman behind the glass raised her eyebrows, but took the coins and handed over a ticket. Italy thanked her, hoping he still remembered his French enough to not insult her by accident, and then ran onto the train just as the whistle blew. He had just barely settled himself into the seat as the train lurched to a start. He felt a smile light up his face, and it remained as he closed his eyes and settled in.

_I'm coming, Ludwig…just please…don't be mad at me…._

oOoOoOo

Buon giorno-Good Day (in Italian)

Si-Yes (in Italian)

Frère-brother (in French)

Non- no (in French)

Francia-France (in Italian)

Dépêchez-vous-Hurry up! (in French)

Che cosa-what (interjection)(in Italian)

Perché-why(interjection)(in Italian)

Bruder-brother(in German)


	5. 4: Falling Right into Place

A/N: A bored Kira means more chapters :D

Yay for Italy and Germany finally getting to see each other! This should've happened at the beginning ^^"

oOoOoOo

"_Somehow everything's gonna fall right into place;  
If we only had a way to make it all fall faster everyday;  
If only time flew like a dove,  
Well God, make it fly faster than I'm falling in love…_

This time we're not giving up;  
Let's make it last forever…  
Screaming "hallelujah"…  
We'll make it last forever…"

oOoOoOo

Germany was dozing off at his desk when he heard the snapping of a branch outside his window. He jumped, hand automatically pulling open a drawer and drawing out a small handgun. He got out of his chair, rubbing the drowsiness out of his eyes with his other hand. Germany glanced out the window, staring into the branches and spotted the intruder.

"Who goes?" he growled in German, and he heard a small gasp of surprise as some more branches cracked, and then a scratched up face popped into view sporting a broad grin.

"Germany! It's me!"

"Italy!" Germany dropped his gun, reaching out to pull his friend inside, crushing him in a surprising embrace. Italy squeaked, sounding rather shocked.

"G-Germany!"

"Are you alright?" Germany asked the smaller man, holding him at arm's length for an inspection. "Did he hurt you?"

"N-no, not r-really." Italy stammered, looking down at his bare feet. Germany noticed s well and swore, then glanced back at the scratches on his face. He sighed.

"I'm going to grab the first aid kit. I'll be right back-just sit down in the chair, alright?"

Italy nodded nervously, sitting down carefully. His bottom still ached from being pushed down by France, and he was exhausted, but he wanted to see Germany so bad he forced himself to keep awake. However, by the time the German came back he was already drifting off. The blonde nation chuckled, walking over quietly and shaking the younger nation's shoulder. Italy started, blushing light pink.

"Ah, s-sorry, I didn't mean to sleep, i-it's just…"

"You should've worn shoes, Italy." Germany scolded, ignoring the faint apologies. Italy blushed deeper, laughing quietly.

"I didn't want _Francia_ to find out I was leaving. H-he told me explicitly not t-to leave…"

Germany made a small humming noise, wiping the dirt and grime off Italy's small feet. They were also cut a bit, and Italy winced as he wiped at them. Germany sighed deeply.

"You should have called me, Italy."

"He took away my phone." Italy whimpered slightly as he switched to alcohol. "H-he won't even let me see _fratello_…he says th-that we'd try to leave him…a-and I want to, Ludwig…I don't want to do this…"

Germany looked up as Italy put his face in his dirty hands, the salt and the dirt causing the cuts to sting. Germany reached up and brought the pale hands back down, washing the tears away with the blood.

"Hush, Italy, I know you don't. That French bastard brought you into this against your will, and that isn't right. Just…stay here."

"Wh-what?" Italy looked at Germany's face, trying to find the smile that usually accompanied the other's rare jokes, but the blue depths of his eyes only showed seriousness. "Y-you mean it?"

"Of course. If you stay here, then France can't get to you without going through me, and he knows I'm much stronger than him."

"B-b-but Lu-ah, G-Germany…"

"You can call me Ludwig if you want." Germany grumbled, placing a few bandages on the larger cuts, a faint smile on his face. Italy's face brightened.

"Really? You won't get mad at me?"

"_Nein_, and I'm sorry for doing so in the past." Germany was rather confused by his own kindness, but something about a blubbering, injured Italy made his heart melt. He pulled the small man into his arms again, sighing. "Italy…don't go back to France. He will only cause you to get hurt."

"B-but what about _f-fratello_?" Italy whimpered, and Germany frowned. He hadn't thought about the older Vargas, and he knew Italy wouldn't want to leave his brother alone. However, Romano was stronger than Italy, and could take care of himself much better.

"I'm sure he will be fine, Italy-"

"Feliciano."

Germany raised a blonde eyebrow.

"What?"

"Th-that's my real name. You said I could use yours, s-so, if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, sure…Feliciano." Germany smiled softly, and Italy smiled back, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes with a sad chuckle.

"I-I'm sorry, I came all the way here and all I've done is cry like a baby and let you take care of me…I really am a-a weak person, aren't I?"

"You aren't." Germany was surprised at the words that blurted out of his mouth. Italy appeared to be as well, and his amber eyes widened.

"R-really? Ludwig….Ludwig doesn't think I'm weak?" he laughed nervously. "But, wait, you're just being nice, aren't you? J-just like France was, saying I-I'm not useless…"

"I'm not lying, Feliciano." Germany said sternly, putting his hands on the small shoulders in front of him. "You have a much bigger heart than any of the other gad damn nations, who only care about what's best for themselves…you're much stronger than they are, no matter what you think."

Italy's lips parted to form a small "o", and then his cheeks flushed deep red.

"I…_grazie_, Ludwig…n-no one's ever told me that."

"They should have. It's not your fault that everyone bullies you." _Including me, _he thought bitterly, and the look on Italy's face showed that he was having the same thought. The smaller nation just smiled and mirrored Germany's action, placing his small hands on his companion's broad shoulders.

"It's alright, Ludwig. I know you didn't really mean it."

Germany just found himself gazing up into brown eyes, letting himself get lost in the deep warmth and utter sincerity they held. He could have lost himself in that gaze for hours had the clock no chimed at that moment. He jumped, as did Italy, and glanced at the clock on the wall. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at Italy who just shrugged.

"I-I tried getting out earlier, b-but _Francia_ wouldn't let me…I'm sorry for disturbing you so late, but…I wanted…to see…"

Germany felt a broad smile on his face as Italy's head dropped onto his shoulder, hands falling from the taller nation's shoulders. Germany chuckled as Italy's light snores sounded right by his ear, his soft breath tickling Germany's neck. And…yep, there was that weird feeling again. He ignored it, scooping the young Italian up in his arms and carrying him into one of the small guestrooms, choosing the one right next to his own, the one Italy usually occupied when he was there. He pulled off his friend's coat, tucking the sheets around him like a doting mother. The thought sent a light blush to his cheeks, and he ducked out of the room, shutting the door softly. He stood there for a minute, heart thumping rapidly, before he walked the few steps to his own, stripping off his shirt and pants before sliding in under the sheets, trying to push the image of Italy's teary face, the wetness mingling with blood and grime…

_Damn French bastard…._

oOoOoOo

Germany woke up, registering barely how warm his bed seemed…it wasn't until he felt something moving next to him that his blue eyes snapped open to find Italy in his bed. The smaller man had his head snuggled in Germany's chest, a small smile gracing it. Germany's heart melted, and he couldn't bring himself to wake the younger nation up. Instead, he just lifted the smaller man up and scooted out from under him cautiously, making sure to take extra care. He stood up off the bed, grabbing a new uniform to change into before heading off to the shower. Once the water was turned on, he let his mind wander.

England was going to be furious if he found out Germany had let one of their supposed "enemies" stay at his house but, well, Germany knew France would be just as mad that Italy had snuck out. And there was no way in hell he was going to let him take out his anger on the young Italy, because he knew he would never oppose anyone willingly. Italy was a pacifist-everyone knew it, but dragged him into conflict anyway. _You've done it too_, a voice in his mind sniggered, and Germany sighed deeply, resting his head against the wall and letting the water drip off his back. He knew he'd been just the same before…so what had changed? Was it something recent, or…no, now that he really thought about it, the feelings had been building for years-maybe even since the first war. He sighed again, letting his eyes close. He was finally beginning to realize what those strange feelings were, and it caused another blush to rise to his cheeks. He liked Italy-no, not just liked he lo….loved….

oOoOoOo

_He wasn't sure where he was…there were no landmarks around, only burning grass and blackened lumps in the distance…maybe a city? It was too hard to tell…_

_He ran, trying to get away from the horrible place, but it seemed that everywhere he went, it was the same…burnt trees, burnt grass, burnt buildings, burnt people…_

_He gagged, retching and falling to his knees, smoke stinging his eyes. He forced himself to his knees again, wanting-no, NEEDING-to find someone, anyone…_

_There was a figure in the distance, and he ran as fast as he could over the burnt ground, his feet aching…but he needed to see…_

_The figure turned, and he could see the damage…the burns…_

_And then he saw the face, and he felt his stomach drop out…_

_No…_

_NO…_

"NO!"

Italy screamed, body shooting up. He curled immediately into a ball, head sunk to his knees, breath coming out in sobbing gasps.

_It wasn't real….It wasn't real…_

"Feliciano!"

His head shot up, nearly hitting the other one that was only a few inches away. Germany was gripping his shoulders, his blue eyes wide with surprise. Italy took a few deep breaths, trying to smile, but the fear from the nightmare lingered.

"L-Ludwig…." He couldn't stop several tears from dropping onto his plaid pajamas, and Germany's eyes widened more.

"What happened?"

"Ah, j-j-just a n-nightmare…" Italy whispered, drawing his knees closer subconsciously. Germany hesitated, then put his arms around the shaking boy.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Italy shook his head in a jerky fashion, letting his head drop onto Germany's shoulder. After a few minutes of just wallowing in the comfort of the embrace, Italy reluctantly pushed away, then his eyes widened dramatically when he saw his friend was wearing only a towel.

"Ah…L-Ludwig…."

"Huh? Oh." Germany's blush was back, and he muttered. "I was showering, but then I heard your scream, and…well, I wanted to get out here, make sure you were alright, you know…"

Italy giggled, and Germany was relieved to hear the noise. He went over to his dresser and pulled out a plain shirt and pants, both too big for the smaller man.

"These will have to do. You can't take a shower and get changed in a minute, just let me, ah, finish up." Germany blushed again, eliciting another laugh from Italy. He went back into the bathroom, emerging again only a few minutes later to find Italy sitting on the ledge of his window, staring at the sky. He followed the amber gaze, seeing a small squad of planes flying overhead. Ah…

"It's starting soon, isn't it?"

Germany could only nod at Italy's frank question, and the younger nation sighed, jumping off the windowsill. Just as he was about to go into the bathroom, Germany called.

"Be careful of your injuries, Feliciano."

"_Si_." Italy replied, closing the door, leaving Germany alone. For once, the German did not enjoy the absence of companionship…

oOoOoOo

"Where the hell did he go?"

Romano winced at France's sharp tone. Sadly, he fervently wished he knew the answer to the blonde's question. He was worried about his brother, who had apparently snuck off some time after eleven the night before, and Romano was concerned. He knew that when-_if_-his brother returned, France would not be pleased, and the Frenchman was in a far more hostile mood than anyone had seen in centuries. It was frightening, and even Romano found himself rather frightened…

"I don't know, frog bastard." He snapped, trying to keep his usual annoyed façade in place. "We were in separate rooms, how the hell was I supposed to know what he was planning?"

"He's your brother." France muttered, but he knew that he was getting nowhere. He was rather surprised at Italy's gutsy move, and, frankly, so was Romano. Italy usually just sat around when he was captured, not bothering to even try to escape, so why had he run away? That thought troubled Romano more than anything else-why had this time, this _one_ time, had his brother run away?

A knock on the door, and a head of beige hair poked around the doorway, accompanied by Russia's ever-present smirk.

"Found him yet?"

"…_non_…" France replied, disgruntled. The creepy smile on Russia's face widened.

"I know a way to draw him out, AND begin the offensive strike as well."

"What do you…" France's blue eyes widened in horror. "You can't mean…

Russia nodded, laughing his trademark laugh as the other two nations gaped in near-identical horror.

"Da, we will bomb Germany tonight."

oOoOoOo

Grazie-Thank you (in Italian)


	6. 5: A Black Wind

A/N: Noooooo, why, Russia, why? D8

Some violence and junk in this chapter. Maybe a bit of fluff?

oOoOoOo

"_And the clouds above move closer  
Looking so dissatisfied;  
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing…  
I used to be my own protection, but not now…  
'Cause my path had lost direction, somehow…  
A black wind took you away, from sight…  
And held the darkness over day, that night…"_

oOoOoOo

Germany had just been setting the places for dinner when it happened.

He dropped to the floor, blood spewing from his mouth. Italy, who had been standing next to him, screamed and dropped to his side in an instant, eyes widening at the sight of the blood.

"L-Ludwig? What's happening?"

"B-bombs…" Germany choked out, accompanied by more blood. "B-bombs…my cities…"

"What?" Italy gasped, putting a hand to Germany's forehead, pulling it back after only a second.

_Already running a fever…they're burning his cities….who would…_

Italy gasped again, this time in realization. Germany cracked his eyes open, asking in a choked voice.

"Wh-what is it?"

Italy just shook his head, putting his arm around the larger man and helping him to his feet. Prussia was over in Austria discussing their position in the war, so it was only Italy and Germany in the house. Italy cursed, half dragging his friend to his room. After settling the feverish nation under the sheets, he grabbed the phone off the side table, searching through the contacts until he came to the one he'd been searching for. He pressed the send button, gazing anxiously at the trembling German on the bed until a loud voice finally rang in his ears.

"West, that you? What the hell's going on over there-"

"P-Prussia?" Italy stammered. "I-it's me, I-I-Italy. I-I'm here with your b-brother, but he-he's got b-b-b-blood, in his mouth…well, I mean, o-out of his…"

"Calm down, Italy." Prussia snapped. "I could feel something was happening, but I wanted to know what. Did he tell you anything?"

"H-he said b-b-bombs." Italy whispered, tears running down his cheeks in unstoppable streams. "Th-they're bombing the cities…"

"Fuck!" Prussia swore, and Italy could hear Austria's familiar voice scolding the platinum blonde in the background and Prussia snapped. "Don't chide me, you aristocratic priss! MY BROTHER'S BEING FUCKING BOMBED!"

Italy could hear Austria's cry of alarm, and then the phone switched hands and the much gentler voice sounded in his ear.

"Stay calm, Italy, alright?"

Italy nodded, then remembered he was on the phone and whispered.

"_Si._"

"Good. Now, Gilbert just left, and I believe he is heading back to you, but it will take a few hours at least for him to arrive. Can you stay with Ludwig until then?"

"I-I don't know." Italy sobbed. "I-I-I should go try to persuade Big brother France to stop the bombs, m-maybe he'll listen t-to me."

"No, Italy, you stay right there, alright? Do NOT go back to France!" Austria sounded alarmed, and it only made Italy cry more. Austria sighed, and said. "Italy, you don't need to be a part of this."

"B-but they're hurting Ludwig…"

"They'll hurt you too, if you stay in it!" Austria said sternly, reminding Italy of when he'd lived at the other nation's house, so many years ago…oh, how Austria loved to scold him.

"B-but maybe, if I g-go back, they'll stop…" Italy wept, his tears dotting the carpet. "Austria, I-I'm….I'm scared…"

"Shh, I know you are, Italy." Austria soothed, his voice getting softer. "I know you're afraid, but you have to help Ludwig, at least until his brother gets there. Can you do that?"

"_S-si…_" Italy whispered, and Austria sighed.

"Alright. I'm going to hang up now, but you stay there and take care of Ludwig, alright?"

"Okay…." Italy waited for the dial tone to press the end button. He set the phone down, immediately rushing back to Germany's side. The blonde had fallen unconscious, the blood from his mouth already beginning to dry, but Italy watched in horror as other wounds opened up on the pale skin. He rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a cloth and wetting it, grabbing some bandages as a second thought. When he got back to his friend, Germany's eyes were cracked open, and the other nation looked even paler than usual. Italy began washing the blood off his face, trying to will his hands to stop trembling.

"F-Feli…Feliciano…"

"I-it's alright, I-I-I'm here…" Italy said quietly, his voice shaking. "P-Prussia's on his w-w-way."

"_Bruder_…?" Germany coughed, thankfully with no blood this time. Italy continued to wipe away at the already dried blood as he nodded, tears splashing onto Germany's face as he bent over him. Germany reached up slowly and put his hand on Italy's wet cheek, frowning.

"Don't cry…Feliciano…"

"I-'m sorry…_mi dispiace…_I-I'm just so a-afraid…" Italy thought back to his dream the previous night, and suddenly the danger seemed all too present. His hands began to shake even more, and it was becoming near impossible to continue with his task. He bowed his head, letting his tears fall as his hands stopped their motions. Germany kept his hand cupped on Italy's face as he whispered hoarsely.

"Don't be afraid…it takes much more than a few bombs to kill me…"

"J-Japan said that too…" Italy sobbed. "B-But remember how b-b-bad he was hurt?"

"But he's alive…Feliciano…" Germany brought Italy's face closer to his own. "And so am I."

He brought their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss, but it surprised Italy so much that he fell off the edge of the bed. Germany chuckled, coughing a little bit as Italy's head reappeared over the edge of the bed, his amber eyes showing his confusion quite clearly.

"What was that…Ludwig?"

"You know what that was, Feli." Germany whispered, and Italy's face flushed a deeper red at the nickname.

"Ah, b-but…I thought…I thought Ludwig always hated it…when I k-kissed you…"

"_Nein_, Feli…I _wanted_ to hate it, because…" now the blonde was blushing. "Because I couldn't admit it…I didn't want to…to have feelings…for you…because….

"I…I love you…"

Italy swore his heart stopped beating the moment those words fell from Germany's lips. Suddenly, everything was forgotten-the bombs, Prussia, France…the only thing he knew of was the words echoing in his mind…

_I love you…_

He willed himself to breathe again, getting to his knees and bringing his face level with the German's again.

"You mean it…?"

Germany nodded, reaching out his hand limply, and Italy grabbed it immediately, bowing his head as he whispered.

"You really mean it? You…you love…_me…?"_

"_Ja, _Feli…" Germany's lips spilt in a soft smile, though the faint trace of blood at the corners made it seem a bit creepy. But Italy didn't care-he brought his lips forward to meet Germany's, the salty taste of his tears mingling with the metallic tang of the blood.

"_Anche a me…_me too…" he translated against the other nation's lips, and he felt them turn up into a smile as he finished. "_Ti amo…_"

"I know." Germany said as Italy sat back again, his tears finally stopping. "I know…I just never acknowledged it and…I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright." Italy laughed sadly. "Ve, at least you told me eventually, _si?_"

"_Ja."_ Germany whispered, smiling as he cupped Italy's cheek again. "I should have told you earlier…"

"It's fine." Italy smiled, and Germany was surprised to see how real it was, despite the situation they were in. He could still feel pain from the bombings, but it was subsiding. Italy crawled up onto the bed and curled up at Germany's side, wiping the last of the blood from his face, and then began working on the rest of his body. Germany was surprised at how strangely…_good_ it felt, having Italy's gentle hands wiping him off. He shut his eyes, sighing, and then opened them again when Italy stopped.

"What're doin'?"

"Ah, I th-thought I'd hurt you…" Italy said, and he shook his head.

"Not hurt…good…"

"Good…?" Italy looked confused, but resumed the motion. Germany let his eyes slide shut again, and after a few minutes of the gentle ministrations found himself drifting off, managing to mutter one last thing before he fell asleep.

"_Ich liebe dich_…Feli…"

Italy felt a smile stretching across his face, but at the same time, the tears returned in full force. He had finally been able to admit it, without the German brushing it aside, brushing his feelings…in fact, Germany had been the one to say it first.

So why did he feel so sad?

oOoOoOo

Prussia swore under his breath the entire cab ride home. He had passed by many of the towns that had been hit by the bombs, and it had made him jittery. There were some towns, the smaller ones, that were completely decimated, as if they'd never even existed. He knew exactly what sort of damage that could do to a country's avatar, hence why he'd paid the cabbie double to break the speed limit…

The second the cab stopped, Prussia flung himself from it, not bothering to thank the man. He paused only to unlock the door (knowing Germany would KILL him if he broke it in…again…), and then he was running up the stairs two at a time, flinging open his brother's door…

And found him sleeping peacefully, with an equally peaceful Italy curled up at his side. He could see many of dark spots where the blood had soaked through his brother's clothes, but his sleeping face betrayed none of his pain…and maybe the reason for it was the young nation curled up by his side. Prussia stepped forward, a board creaking underfoot, and Italy shot up, tipping off the bed and landing with a thud. Prussia glanced at his brother, surprised the other nation was still asleep. Italy sat up, looking flustered and his mahogany eyes widened when they spotted the albino on the other side of the bed.

"P-P-Prussia! Oh, g-good, you're here…"

"Yeah, the awesome me is here." Prussia smiled wearily, glancing back at his brother. "So, I see you took care of him…_danke_, Italy…"

"Oh, n-n-no, it wasn't any trouble, r-really!" Italy scrambled to his feel, adjusting his baggy clothes. Prussia smirked-he knew exactly whose they were, but then he frowned when the Italian reached for his coat that he had brought in from the guest room.

"Where do you think you're going, eh?"

"AH, I was just, ve…." Italy sighed, bowing his head so he didn't have to meet that red gaze as he admitted. "I'm going to ask France to stop the bombings."

"The hell?" Prussia gaped as Italy pulled on his coat, doing up the buttons with shaking hands.

"I have to. I-if I don't, Ludwig will k-keep getting hurt. I don't want that."

Prussia raised a white eyebrow at the use of his brother's intimate name, a smirk making it's way to his lips once more.

_So that's how it is…_

"But you sure you want to leave your precious Ludwig in my hands?" he teased, and was surprised by the glare Italy shot him.

"You won't do anything to him. Besides, he's your brother."

"True." Prussia continued to grin malevolently, but it was almost half-hearted as he saw his brother twitch in his sleep, another spot beginning to appear on his shirt. Italy saw it too, and he whispered.

"That's why I have to go…I'm sorry, I don't want to, believe me, I don't, but…"

"You have to. I know." Prussia's smile turned sad. "Go on, then. But…take care of yourself. For him."

Italy smiled back, just as sad, and turned to walk past the albino. Prussia listened as the small man's footsteps retreated down the hall, down the stairs, and finally, out of the house. He walked over and sat on the edge of his brother's bed, sighing.

_He's going to kill me for letting Italy leave…_

oOoOoOo

_Slap!_

All the other nations in the room winced at the sound of a hand connecting to a face. Canada, who was sitting in the corner of the room unnoticed as usual, felt a deep pang of sympathy at the sound of Italy's whimper. Italy had shown up on France's front step in the middle of the night, surprisingly just as Russia had said. France had immediately dragged him inside, bringing him to the room where France's allies had been gathered for a meeting. The blonde had whipped his hand out in a flash, catching the Italian on the cheekbone, leaving a harsh red mark. France was panting with anger, grinding the words out as Italy stayed crouched on the ground.

"How _dare_ you run away from my house? Did I not tell you to stay in your room? DIDN'T I?"

"_S-si_…" Italy whimpered, hand cupping his cheek. How ironic- the same cheek that Germany had been cupping only hours before, now stinging painfully from the Frenchman's swift blow. France scowled, his hand cranking back for another swing. Italy squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the pain, but it didn't come…he opened his eyes cautiously, surprised to find someone holding France back. His first thought was that it was America, but then he noticed the slight purple tint of the eyes, and the softened expression, and he gasped.

"M-Matthew! What are you doing?"

"Yes, Matvey, just what do you think you're doing?" Russia asked, a chilly aura surrounding him. "Francis was just doling out well deserved punishment, da?"

"A-a-ah….well…I just …I don't think you should be hurting him…like that…" Canada could feel his momentary bravery shattering under Russia's cool gaze. "I-I'm sorry…."

"No, it's alright." France extracted himself from his 'son's' grip, sighing. "I was being too harsh with _petit Italie_. _Je suis désolé, _Italy…I don't know what came over me."

"I-it's alright…" Italy smiled, and he heard Romano's shocked gasp as the man ran over, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing his little brother's mouth with it.

"You're bleeding…you must have split your lip when that bastard hit you."

"It's fine, _fratello_." Italy tried to convince his brother, but even he knew that it feel far short of convincing. It hurt everyone in the room, just seeing that failure. At the world meeting only a few months before, Italy had been bouncing off the walls, laughing and exclaiming about the wonderful pasta Romano had cooked for him, but now…now he looked despondent, and his voice was full of sadness as he gazed up at his once friend, now captor. "_Francia_…please…_per favore_…stop the bombings on Germany."

"I-"

"I don't think that's a good idea. After all, what's to stop England from retaliating then, da?" Russia smiled his eerie smile, and Romano shot him a glare over his brother's shoulder. France sighed, shrugging.

"I think we've done enough to Germany for now."

Russia glared at him coolly, but France just glared back.

"It's my alliance, I'll do whatever I choose. Cease all bombings on German lands."

Russia made a face, but it lasted only the fraction of a second, and then his smile was back. He walked out of the room, his Baltic states following after. Italy stared after them, looking relieved, and Romano snorted.

"That damn cold bastard."

Italy couldn't help but agree as his brother helped him to his feet, which had begun to ache again from the small cuts he'd gotten the night before. There were still a couple of small bandages on his face, covering the small cuts from the tree he'd climbed to see Germany…just to see him…Italy felt tears building in his eyes once more, and barely registered the arms of his brother around him as he cried.

_I'm sorry….Ludwig…_

oOoOoOo

A/N: If anyone knows the languages I'm using (and likely botching) feel free to help me out. _Merci bien!_

Anche a me-me too (in Italian)

Ti amo-I love you (in Italian)

Ich liebe dich- I love you (in German)

Danke- Thanks (in German)

Petit Italie-little Italy (in French)


	7. 6: The Moment to Fight

A/N: La la la…I hate snowy weekends…but it means more chapters for you guys!

I usually update on weekends, but I hope to update as much as I can with school and junk

Poor Feli….but at least they finally admitted they love each other : )

oOoOoOo

"A warning to the people,  
The good and the evil;  
This is war…  
To the soldier, the civilian,  
The martyr, the victim;  
This is war…

It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie;  
The moment to live and the moment to die;  
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight….."

oOoOoOo

"God dammit, Ludwig Beilschmidt! Get your ass back here!"

Prussia stalked out of the house after his stumbling brother, his pale features contorted in annoyance. Germany had woken up ten minutes beforehand, at about four in the morning, of course, and upon discovering Italy's absence leapt out of bed and out the door. Prussia sighed in frustration, picking up speed to catch up with his brother.

"Look, West, we can't have you running around when you just got bombed! At least rest for another day!"

"Can't." Germany grumbled as his brother finally caught up, grabbing onto the blonde's arm and forcing him to a halt. Icy blue eyes met scarlet, and Prussia sighed again.

"Look, _bruder, _I know you…_care_ for little Italy, but please think rationally-"

"Oh that's rich, coming from you."

"…point taken." Prussia chuckled wryly, running a hand through his snowy locks. "But seriously, _bruder_, you can't just march in there and demand him. You'll just create conflict, and Arthur'll have your ass fer sure."

"But France is going to hurt him." Germany said, his voice almost a whine. Prussia rolled his eyes, snorting.

"I can't believe it! Somebody actually got mine _bruder_ to whine like a lovestruck teen."

He carefully avoided the blonde's fist that rushed toward him, laughing aloud as his younger brother scowled.

"Gilbert, I swear, I'm going to kill you!"

"Oh, like you could kill the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!" Prussia cackled, dodging his brother's fist. What he'd really been doing is testing his brother's strength, seeing how bad the damage from the bombs was. Thankfully, it seemed as if the damage hadn't been that excessive, and Germany was now walking steadily. Still…

"You can't go up against France _and _Russia. Hell, not even I would be that foolish, _bruder, _and that's saying a lot."

"But Gil-"

"Nope. You are absolutely not storming off to France's house, Lud, and that's final." Prussia threw his brother over his shoulder, catching Germany completely by surprise.

"Gilbert, what the hell do you think you're doing? Put me down!"

"Nope."

"Damn you, Gilbert, PUT ME DOWN!"

But Prussia refused to comply with his brother's request, and brought the reluctant man back into the house. He threw him onto the bed in a not-so-nice manner, causing Germany to yelp. Prussia snorted, pointing down at his brother.

"You stay here, alright? I'll…damn it, I'll go to England, and we'll see what we can do…about Italy…"

Prussia jumped as Germany threw his arms around him in a rare show of brotherly affection. He felt a smile creeping on his now pink face as he sighed.

"Alright, alright, that's enough…anyway, I guess I have to get going. But I sent a message to Roderich and he'll be coming back in a few hours, so don't you dare try anything." Prussia's glare was hard like rubies, and Germany made a face.

"I'm not going anywhere, Gilbert. Just go talk to Arthur. Please." He added in a soft voice, and Gilbert nodded.

"I will. I'll try and get this solved, Lud…I promise, no, I _swear_ I will. I haven't seen you so happy in a long time." Prussia smiled fondly, and Germany raised his eyebrows, pondering the statement. Prussia ruffled his hair the moment he was distracted, and then darted out of the room, waving over his shoulder. Germany watched him leave, leaning back onto his pillows.

_Am I really that different…? All because of him…?_

oOoOoOo

"Veneziano?"

Italy blinked open his eyes, shutting them again as they were assaulted by bright sun. He sighed, rolling to bury his face in the pillow.

"Nn…"

"Veneziano, please, you need to come quickly." Romano said softly, shaking his younger brother's shoulder. Italy's eyes finally drifted open, blinking up at his brother sleepily.

"What….Romano, what are you doing…?"

"Quickly!" Romano hissed, handing his brother a cell phone. Italy blinked, glancing at it, then his brother.

"_Fratello_, what is this?"

"Canada's cell phone." Romano said quietly, sighing. "He didn't have it taken away, since he joined semi-willingly, and he wanted to let you use it to talk to Germany. Yeah, we figured it out, not that it wasn't freaking obvious."

Italy blushed lightly, but he was smiling when he whispered.

"_Grazie, fratello_…"

"Just do it." Romano muttered, but Italy smiled when he saw his brother's ears turning red. Italy flipped the phone open, typing the number swiftly from so many previous calls….Italy smiled at the thought, putting the phone to his ear. One ring….two…three…his heart began to hammer insanely fast, but then there was a click, and the sound of a drowsy voice, and it sped up even faster.

"'lo?"

"Ah, L-Ludwig?" Italy stammered, and he heard Germany's sharp gasp and the phone clattering to the ground. Several grumbled curses later, the phone was brought back up and he could hear the other nation clearly.

"Feliciano! Are you alright?"

"Ah, I-I'm fine, Ludwig, really…" there was a silence on the other end of the line, and Italy could clearly imagine the glare on Germany's face. He sighed, amending. "Well, _Francia_ hit me a few times, but really, I'm alright."

"Feliciano…" Germany sighed. "I told you not to go back."

"I know…b-but I got them to stop bombing you! Now it'll be better for you!"

"I would have preferred having you!" Germany snapped, startling both Italies. Romano snorted.

"Wow, didn't believe the potato bastard had enough room in his heart to care like that."

"I heard that, Romano." Germany growled, and Italy chuckled giddily.

"See, you sound better. And if I stay here, I can keep them from doing it ever again."

"But it's not safe for you there, Feliciano." Germany argued, sounding rather upset. "If you try to oppose them, they'll hurt you again."

"I'm not so worried about _Francia._" Italy said frankly. "Though…well, Russia does scare me a bit."

"Only a bit?" Germany chuckled grimly. "Hell, he scares _me_, Feliciano."

"He scares everyone, I think." Italy laughed nervously. "But really, I think it'll be fine. They only want my troops-they know I'm basically useless."

"You're not useless." Germany and Romano said in unison, Romano glaring at the phone, and Italy had a feeling Germany was doing the same. He smiled vaguely.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Feliciano…" Germany said, a warning tone in his voice. However, there was a noise on his end, which startled him. Italy cocked his head curiously.

"What was that?"

"Ah, probably Roderich. Gilbert mentioned that he'd be stopping by." Germany sighed. "I guess I have to go, then. But it was really lovely to hear your voice, Feli."

Italy could hear the smile in the older nation's voice, and he felt one creeping onto his as well.

"Yours as well. Please take care, Ludwig."

"You too, Feliciano. Watch out for yourself, don't let them hurt you."

"I'll try." Italy jumped when he heard footsteps approaching in the hall. He cupped his hand around the speaker, whispering. "I'll try to call you later. _Ciao_, Ludwig, and…I-I love you."

"I love you too." Germany replied, and he added in a very faint voice. "I love you so much."

"I know." Italy said just as softly, shutting the phone just as the door opened. He tucked his hand under his leg, placing his carefree smile on his face like always.

"Ve, _Francia_, _buon giorno!_"

"Ah, _bon matin_, Italy…did you sleep well?"

Italy nodded quickly, and Romano shot him a glance before looking up at their captor.

"You could let us go home now, France. You know we won't be going anywhere."

"Ah, I really want to, but I can't…you see, Russia believes that you, especially, would try to run for the other side. I can see his fears so, for now…the two of you have to stay here."

"Bastard!" Romano spat, his hazel eyes narrowing. "Since when did you turn into such a cold hearted bastard, France? A man who keeps his old friends locked away in his house like prisoners?"

"I don't want it to be this way!" France cried, his blue eyes wide and looking suddenly rather sad. "I never wanted things to end up like this, but…this war…desperate times…"

"Yeah, yeah we know." Romano scowled. "Save it for someone who cares, Francis."

France glared at him frostily, but when he glanced at the younger Italian, who had his legs curled up and his head sunk behind them, he felt a sharp pang of regret once again. He tried to reach out to the small nation, but when Italy recoiled he jerked the arm back. A long frown graced his lips, and he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the two brothers alone again. Italy sighed, saying in a quiet voice as he handed the phone to his brother.

"Tell Matthew _grazie_ from me…"

"Of course." Romano nodded, frowning sadly. He hated seeing his brother in such a state, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. It was war, and war was hard-they'd both learned that years ago. But to have the one he loved on the opposite side….Romano knew how heart breaking that could be. He put his arm around his brother's thin shoulders, hugging him to his chest for a moment before letting go and walking out of the room, trying to ignore the sounds of his brother's faint sobs behind him…

oOoOoOo

"Ludwig?"

Austria entered the room just as Germany was putting the phone down on the table. The blonde man turned, a faint smile on his face that caused Austria to pause.

"Hello, Roderich."

"How are you feeling?" The dark haired man asked, ad Germany laughed bitterly.

"I've been better…and worse, sadly." He sighed. "But it's not so bad now that they've stopped."

"You don't sound exactly happy about that." Austria remarked, and Germany sighed again.

"Fe-Italy had to go back to the bastard France's house to make him stop."

"Italy went back?" Austria's voice rose slightly in pitch, betraying his worry for the young nation. After all, he'd watched over the northern half of Italy for many years, and he'd grown attached to the gleeful young man. He also knew of Italy's tendency toward foolishness, hence his fear.

"_Ja_, he went back." Germany said, a slight growl in his voice. "He wanted to make France stop bombing, so he went back to stop him from doing it, and to keep him from trying again."

"What good is Italy going to do to that effect?" Austria muttered, going over to Germany's bed to change his bandages, but a firm hand on his thin wrist stopped him.

"They're fine. I already told him he was being stupid but he insists on staying there. I just hope he'll be alright…"

"I'm sure he will." Austria assured him as sadness filled the sky blue orbs of his sometime friend. "His brother is there, as is Canada."

"Canada joined France?" Germany's head shot up in surprise. Austria nodded grimly.

"Just last night."

"But…" Germany's frown deepened. "America's on England's side."

"I know. It surprised many of us, frankly-him most of all." Austria sighed, fidgeting with his coat sleeves. "But it's a good thing in a way-he's rather fond of young Italy, he can watch over him."

"He already let Italy use his phone." Germany mumbled, remembering his surprise at the name displayed on his caller id. Austria looked surprised, but then said with a vague smile.

"At least you got to talk to him. It upset me very much to learn that France had forced Italy to join him." Austria admitted. "Especially since I knew of the feelings you held for him."

Germany choked, a blush on his cheeks as he gaped at the brunette.

"Y-you knew?"

Austria nodded, snorting slightly as he turned his gaze out the window.

"It was more obvious than you'd like to think, Ludwig. Gilbert discovered it during World War Two, and I'm fairly certain Romano did as well. Did you not notice how rude he was to you?"

"How could I not?"

"He was only doing that to protect Italy. He didn't want his little brother to get hurt by you."

"I would never hurt Feliciano." Germany said quietly, and Austria raised a delicate eyebrow, replying.

"Not purposefully, no, but sometimes…well, sometimes love hurts, Ludwig. Believe me, I've seen it happen many a time." Austria smiled wryly, thinking about his ex-wife, with whom he still held an off-an-on relationship. Germany nodded in understanding.

"I know. I've seen it as well, but…" he sighed. "I _want_ to be with him, Roderich. More than I've ever wanted anything before. Is that awful?"

Austria shook his head, his smile growing warm again as he turned back to face his old friend. He was so glad Germany had finally found someone-he had gone his entire existence without someone, and it was really no wonder then that he had no idea what it felt like to love. Just seeing him so flustered…Austria chuckled.

"That's perfectly normal."

oOoOoOo

"Gilbert?"

Prussia shut the door behind him, not meeting the emerald eyes of the other nation whose office he had entered. He didn't want to be here, but his brother had looked so pitiful…

"Did you need something?" England glared up at the albino. "I'm rather busy."

"I have a request. Well, it's not really me-Lud's the one who asked me to come."

"Oh yes; how is your brother doing?" England asked, though Prussia could tell it was a formality, that England really didn't give a damn what happened to Germany. The thought angered him, but he kept his bravado as he replied.

"He's doing fine for having, you know,_ bombs_ dropped on him for six fucking hours."

"You make it sound like that's somehow my fault." England remarked, and next thing he knew he'd been hauled up so that he was level with angry red eyes. He smiled, thinking just how similar the brothers were.

"You know it's your God damned fault, England!" Prussia yelled. "You started this fucking war, you dragged my brother into this!"

"Put me down, Gilbert." England replied calmly, ignoring the accusations, but Prussia just shook him.

"I hate that fucking attitude of yours! You started this, and you sure as hell are going to fix it!"

"And how do you propose I do that?" England glared at the ex-nation. "I can't control what that bastard and his allies decide to do-"

"Well for starters you could keep your promise and get Italy out of the war."

"I never promised that." England snapped, finally releasing Prussia's fingers from his collar. "I said I wouldn't drag him into it, I never said anything about stopping France from doing so."

"You fucking asshole!" Prussia yelled, features contorted in fury. "Do you not care at all about your own allies?"

"Last I checked, neither of the Italies were my allies." England replied coolly, and Prussia punched him square in the face.

"You bastard…I can't believe you. Fine." Prussia turned on his heel, opening the door to exit. "If you won't do anything, then I will."

oOoOoOo

Bon Matin- Good Morning (in French)


	8. 7: Per Te, Per Me

A/N: Blech, silly school, taking away my writing time X6

Prussia's kind of stupid, but he's also pretty awesome (ha ha)

Any guesses on the previous lyrics?

oOoOoOo

"_L'amore in noi superera… _

_Gli ostacoli e le maree delle avversita… _

_E ci sara anche per noi nel mond un tempo in cui l'amore vincera… _

_Per te, per me…"_

oOoOoOo

Romano was the first to spot the man creeping along the side of the building. He leaned out his window, trying to confirm his suspicions, and once he had he whispered the intruder's name softly.

"Oi, Prussia!"

The white haired man jumped, looking up at the window, looking relieved to see it was only Romano. He waved to show that he saw him, then gestured toward the side door he'd been making his way to. Romano just shook his head, whispering.

"Latvia's guarding it. Give me a moment and I'll find something."

Prussia nodded, and Romano ducked back into the room, searching for something he could lower down to the albino. He knew that if Prussia was here that meant either something bad had happened, or Prussia was coming to deliver something. Either way, Romano assumed it was important, so for his brother's sake he tied together his sheets and went back to the window. Prussia was standing right next to the wall so that he couldn't be seen by any of the other windows, but when he saw Romano gesture he stepped back a little bit. Romano tossed out the knotted sheets, gesturing with his hand urgently. He held on tightly as Prussia began his ascent, thankfully moving quickly. Russia had placed the Baltics on guard in several locations, apparently to stop Italy from being stupid and sneaking out again. He had moved both brothers up to the third floor as a precaution though he'd smiled creepily and said "_Not that silly Italy would try to leave again. You wouldn't want to anger France, da?" _Romano shuddered at the memory as he helped Prussia through the window, trying to be as quiet as he could. Prussia sighed as soon as his feet were on the floor, laughing quietly.

"_Danke_, Romano."

"Yeah, whatever." Romano replied dismissively, pulling the sheets up and beginning to untie them. "What were you doing sneaking around outside? If that bastard France had caught you-"

"I'm here to save your brother."

Romano froze, the sheets dropping from his hands as he turned to gape at the ex-nation. Surprisingly, Prussia looked entirely serious.

"You want to save Veneziano?"

"Don't look so surprised." Prussia grumbled, keeping his voice very low. "I'm doing it for my damn brother's sake. He's just…dammit, he just looked so sad, alright?"

"I know." Romano muttered, picking the sheets back up and going over to his bed, sitting on the edge. "_Fratello _is just as bad. He's barely stopped crying the whole time he's been back."

"I suspected as much." Prussia sighed again, shifting his weight nervously. "That's why I came to get him out of here. My brother doesn't want him to get hurt, and he probably wants Italy by his side."

Romano nodded, remembering the happy smile on Italy's face when he'd been talking on the phone the night before. It was the only real smile he'd seen in days, and it had shocked him. He wanted what was best for his brother, so even if he wasn't too fond of Germany…

"Alright, let's hurry up and come up with a plan."

Prussia smiled wearily, walking slowly to the chair that sat on the other side of the room. He brought it over so it was next to the bed and sat down, crossing his arms. He kept his voice as quiet as he could so as not to alert others of his presence.

"I think it'd be bet to get him out the same way I got in. There's no way we'd make it out of here, not with those damn Baltics guarding the entrances."

"And Russia's been pacing the halls too." Romano told him, and the red eyed man swore.

"That slimy bastard. I've never liked him."

"Few do."

"So I guess that's really our only option." Prussia glanced out the window, grimacing. "Better make it quick, though-looks like the sun'll be up in only a couple of hours."

"Right. So, we need to get Veneziano in here, since his window is right above the door." Romano sighed. "But I think Lithuania's out in this hallway, he'd see us trying to get him out."

"If it's Lithuania, he'll be easy to deceive." Prussia assured the Italian. "Just say you're going in to comfort your poor little brother. I'm sure he won't stop you-kid's got a decent heart in him, or so I've heard."

"That might work." Romano nodded, but then a deep frown lined his face. "But it will be a lot harder to conceal yourselves if there's two of you."

"I think it'll be alright. Though…well, I think a distraction would be even better."

"A distraction?"

Prussia nodded, gesturing airily.

"If you were to create a distraction, they wouldn't be paying as much attention to anything else going on. But it would be risky…in fact, no forget it." Prussia sighed. "Italy would never let you do that."

"I won't tell him. I think that's a great idea." Romano looked determined, and Prussia sighed again.

"Fine, kid, whatever you say; just don't do anything stu-"

They both froze when they heard a knock on the door. They glanced at each other, and then Prussia leapt off the chair and hid between the side table and the bed. At the same time Romano leapt off the bed, hoping the sound of his feet landing on the floor would cover Prussia's scramble. He walked to the door, waiting for Prussia to settle in before opening it.

"Ah, h-hello, Romano."

"Canada, you bastard!" Romano heaved a deep sigh of relief. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Ah, s-sorry…"

"Just close the door." Romano told him, walking back over to his bed and leaning over. "You can come out-it's just Canada."

"P-Prussia?" Canada gasped as Prussia's platinum locks popped into view. The ex-nation waved, laughing quietly.

"Yo, Mattie, how's it goin'?"

"What are you doing here, Prussia?" Canada asked glancing between him and Romano. The latter sighed, sitting back down on the bed as he answered.

"He's here to rescue Veneziano."

"Ah…AH?" Canada gasped. "Prussia, th-that's crazy! Wh-what if you get c-caught!"

"We won't get caught." Prussia said calmly, even though the same fear had been nagging him as well, but he covered it up with a half-hearted grin. "Because I'm just that awesome, right? The awesome Prussia would never let little Italy get taken by these asswipes again."

"And besides, I will be providing some kind of distraction, something to draw their attention away." Romano added, causing Canada to get even more flustered.

"B-but Romano, th-that's d-d-dangerous!"

"I know, but what else can I do? _Fratello_ is here against his own will, and he has someone waiting for him out there." He gestured vaguely out the window. "I can't let France keep him here."

Canada didn't say anything else, but nodded to assure them he wouldn't interfere. Prussia glanced out the window again, and said.

"We need to get started. What kind of decoy are you going to use?"

"I think I'll try doing the same thing." Romano replied. "If I try running away, but really obviously, then they will focus their attention on it since it's so unexpected. But that would require some assistance by Lithuania…"

"Which I would gladly give."

All three nations jumped at the sound of the quiet yet firm voice. Lithuania was standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob and a solemn frown on his face.

"What?"

"I'm willing to help you get Italy out of here." Lithuania repeated, sighing. "I've always thought Italy was a very nice person, and I don't want to see R-Russia destroy him…"

The others noticed the way his voice caught on the older nation's name, but none of them made a mention of it. Prussia just smiled wearily, glad to have another person assisting in what was bound to be a dangerous escape. He sighed, moving closer so the others could hear him clearly.

"Alright, so here's the plan…"

oOoOoOo

"Get back here!"

Lithuania pretended to chase after Romano, who had sprinted off down the stairs. As soon as they'd disappeared from view, Prussia snuck out of Romano's room, walking quietly over to the one next door. He opened the door slowly, the small creak startling the man on the bed. Italy's head shot up, his amber eyes meeting Prussia's. He gasped.

"Prussia? What's going o-?"

"Sorry, kid, we're kind of short on time here." Prussia said shortly, grabbing Italy's coat and glancing around for his boots. Italy had them by his bed, and Prussia smirked-obviously the boy had learned.

"But Prussia, I-I can't-"

"Oh yes you can." Prussia grabbed the thin arm as they heard loud noises from below. He swore, tugging Italy along with him out of the room and into his brother's. Canada was standing there, tying one last knot in the sheets. Italy opened his mouth to say something, but Prussia cut him off.

"Just don't say anything-we don't have time. Is it ready?" he asked Canada, and the sandy blonde nodded.

"Y-yes."

"Okay, well, you're gonna have to hold it while we go down. Here, Italy, put on your coat and boots-it's pretty cold out there, and Lud will kill me if I let you run around barefoot again."

Italy did as he was told in less than a minute, keeping silent for fear that Prussia would snap at him again. He was confused and rather concerned. There was a rather loud crash from the floor below them , and he turned to the door, but Prussia grabbed his arm and jerked the small country back toward the window where Canada was standing, holding one end of the string of sheets. He smiled weakly, saying quietly.

"You should hurry, Prussia, Italy-Romano won't be able to keep them distracted for long, and Russia will begin to suspect something."

"Right. Up you go, little Italy." Prussia helped lift the small country, a bit surprised at the lack of weight. Italy just gazed at him, confusion written clearly on his face, but he let Prussia help him out onto the sheets. He began to clamber down a bit awkwardly, not used to doing such escape maneuvers. Sure, he usually fled from fights and any kind of conflict, but usually people just let him escape. After all, it was just silly little Italy, right?

"Oi, hurry it up, kid!"

At the sound of Prussia's voice Italy looked up. The albino was only a few feet above him, and Canada was looking out the window, his violet-blue eyes wide with fear as he whispered.

"Someone's coming!"

"Shit." Prussia swore, and he began to move faster. Italy followed his example, moving as fast as he could, but he still feared he was going too slow. Finally, he dropped to the ground, landing on his feet, and Prussia jumped from his spot as well. As soon as he had landed he grabbed Italy's arm again, yanking him toward the rows of bushes that surrounded France's lawn. They crashed through them, and were soon making their way down the street, leaving the chaos of Romano's diversion and the realization of their escape behind…

oOoOoOo

"Prussia went to France's house."

Germany raised his blonde eyebrows, surprised by America's announcement.

"What? Why did he go there?"

"I think it's pretty damn obvious." America replied, and England rolled his eyes.

"Don't be crass, Alfred. But it has been confirmed that your brother went over to France's house, and is currently somewhere near the edge of Paris. He is being pursued by Russia's men, or so the intelligence I have says."

"That idiot." German growled, but his heart skipped a beat at the next bit of information.

"He is apparently accompanied by Italy."

"Really?" Germany tried to keep the excitement from his voice, since his brother was in a rather dangerous situation, but it was clear what his brother's intent was. It made a warm, fraternal feeling make its way to Germany's heart. England nodded curtly.

"Yes. However, they are being pursued by a number of members from the Russian mafia, which makes this a rather difficult situation. I hope your git of a brother knows what he's gotten himself into."

"Sadly, I think he knows all too well how stupid it is." Germany grumbled, but his mind was smiling. Italy was out of France's house, and away from Russia. He should have been more worried, but he knew his brother wouldn't let anything awful happen to Italy. Prussia may have been obnoxious and egotistical, but Germany also knew there was a side of his brother that was rather compassionate. He'd seen it mainly aimed toward Hungary, but he also extended it to many of the others, including Italy. Since the last war, Italy had been over at his house regularly, and Prussia was also fairly decent to the younger nation. It had surprised Germany at first, but then again, who _didn't_ like Italy?

"…right, Germany?"

"Huh?" Germany was drawn out of his thoughts. England rolled his green eyes, repeating.

"I said we need to send something over to get your wanker brother and Italy before the Russians get them. You do still have your military vehicle at your house, do you not?"

"_Ja_." Germany nodded. "It would take me several hours, though, since I have to make it back to Germany first."

"We don't have time, if Matt's message is correct."

Both England and Germany turned to gape at America, shocked.

"Matt?"

"Uh, yeah, my brother-you know, Canada…"

"We know who you're talking about." England snapped. "But what the bloody hell are you doing messaging your brother? He joined France-"

"As a spy."

Germany and England found themselves gaping at the young nation in front of them. America just rolled his eyes behind his lenses.

"Mattie joined France, knowing that his 'father' would never suspect him. Obviously he fooled both of you dummies as well."

"Well how were we supposed to know that you and your sodding brother were planning this if you didn't say anything?" England said, and Germany nodded, muttering gruffly.

"Besides, why Canada of all people?"

"Because he's unobtrusive." America replied, adjusting his glasses. "Even Arthur sometimes forgots he's there, right, you tea loving bastard?"

"Oi, don't insult me if you want to keep that pretty face of your intact." England huffed, but he had to admit that the young nation was right. Many of the nations (including America himself) often forgot that Canada was even in the room. He was the perfect choice for a spy. But there was one nagging thought that Germany voiced for him.

"But what if he gets hurt?"

"France would never hurt him." America said confidently, but Germany and England could both see the lingering doubt in his deep blue eyes. "He brought up Mattie for the most part. He feels rather protective over him."

"We thought the same about Italy." England muttered, and Germany's face darkened. He as absolutely furious that France had dared to hit the man he loved. If he wasn't worried about the repercussions, he would have gone over there and beaten the living daylights out him already, but England wouldn't let him. Thankfully, his brother had gotten Italy out of there, so that was a small comfort. But there was the Russian mafia after them….

"We need to get _bruder_ and Italy to somewhere safe."

"I agree." England nodded solemnly. "The question is, where will we take them? Any of our houses would be too obvious."

"What about Italy's house?" America suggested. "It's the last place they would think of, especially if he's with Prussia."

"That's true." England nodded, raising an eyebrow in Germany's direction. The other blonde just frowned, mulling it over, finally nodding.

"We'll bring them to his house."

"It would be best for Prussia to remain there as well." England said, and Germany nodded again.

"Probably. That idiot." He added, but he was secretly very happy for what his brother had done. He would have worried endlessly if Italy had remained in France's house, and would have likely snapped and gone over there himself. Which would have yielded rather undesirable results. He sighed, standing up and heading directly for the door.

"I'll take a plane over to France right away."

"Take Alfred with you." England advised, and his 'son' pouted.

"I don't want to go with Germany! I was supposed to be back home to meet with my boss in a few hours!"

"Well, I'm telling you to go with Germany, and you're going to whether you like it or not." England snapped, annoyed by America's childish whinging. The young nation pouted, but nodded grudgingly.

"Fine, but I'm piloting. We can take my plane."

"Alright, but we need to get going." Germany grumbled, opening the door.

"Be careful." England called out as Germany was about to walk out. The blonde just nodded, his footsteps soon retreating down the hall, America's heavy footfalls trailing behind. England stared after them, sighing as he repeated to himself. "Be careful…idiots…"

oOoOoOo

Lyrics translated:

"The love in us will exceed…  
The obstacles and the tides of adversity…  
There will also be a time for us in the world in which love will win…

For you, for me…"


	9. 8: Love is not a Victory March

A/N: Ah, alas, school is getting in my way of typing ;A; silly creative writing class, making me have to write other things….

Yay for Prussia! :D

Although he does swear a lot in this chapter, but you would too if you were being chased by the Russian mafia.

oOoOoOo

"_Baby I have been here before,  
I know this room, I've walked this floor;  
I used to live alone before I knew you….  
I've seen your flag on the marble arch,  
Love is not a victory march-  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah…"_

oOoOoOo

Prussia cursed vehemently. He and Italy were running down a small side street in a small country town, him still grasping a tan wrist as tightly as he could. Italy hadn't made any noise of protest, all of his breath being used to keep up with the taller man. He wasn't used to such long periods of running-they'd been at it for four hours now, and his legs were starting to feel shaky. But Italy knew that if they stopped, the men after them would be on them in seconds, and they had big, scary guns…he didn't like guns. He didn't keep one on his person, nor even in his house. Sure, Romano had one but…

"FUCK!"

Prussia swore as a bullet zipped past his cheek. He tugged on Italy's arm, pulling him out onto the main street. Italy squeaked, trying to force his legs to go faster, but they resisted. He whimpered as he glanced behind them, seeing the men in black making their way through the crowd. He looked back at Prussia, and the albino was sweating profusely. He had only barely dodged that last one-he was getting too tired, and Italy knew he was too.

"P-Prussia…they're getting c-closer…"

"I fucking know that, Italy!" Prussia snapped, but he knew he shouldn't get mad at the smaller nation. He was the one who'd had this bright idea….

_Way to go, Gilbert…_

"Prussia!"

Italy's scream alerted him, and he ducked just in time. The bullet grazed his arm, and he cursed loudly. He could see amber eyes widening at the sight, and he laughed.

"This is nothing, kid. Don't worry, the awesome Prussia will get us out of this."

_I hope,_ he added in his mind, and he knew Italy read it on his face. Damn, that boy way just too observant some times.

"W-we need to find a…a place to hide." Italy said, his breaths coming in gasps now. Prussia nodded-he knew that, but how the hell were they supposed to hide with those _fuckers_ following them and shooting the moment they got close enough. He'd hoped the Russians would run out of stamina, since they were just humans, but somehow they were managing to keep off. Maybe they were switching off or something-all Prussia knew was that they hadn't been able to shake the men since they'd gotten only a few blocks from France's house. But somehow, the men were keeping up, and the two nations were finally running out of steam. Well, he suspected that Italy had a long time ago, but the boy was somehow keeping up with him for the most part. He was proud of Italy, and he smiled wearily at him.

"I'll get us out of this, Italy. Just hold on for a bit longer, okay?"

"O-okay…" Italy nodded, but his feet were stinging from the cuts he'd sustained the night before, and he was feeling more and more exhausted. He jumped when he heard a gunshot, the bullet going right past his face. It was just close enough to leave a long cut, but thankfully caused no other damage. Prussia had turned at the noise, swearing again when he saw the deep cut on Italy's face.

"That needs to be treated right away. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!"

"I-it's fine, Prussia." Italy winced as the movement caused a sharp pain. Prussia just picked up speed, pulling Italy along with him. The Russians were getting closer and closer, and the bullets were now coming more frequently. Prussia glanced back, seeing how close the men were getting, and tried to move his legs even faster, letting out one loud scream.

"FUCK!"

oOoOoOo

"How much longer?"

America sighed, rolling his eyes. It was the twelfth time the German had asked that question-yes, he had counted.

"We're past the coast now-from what I've heard, two men matching their descriptions were last reported in a small city called Chavy or something."

"Chaville." Germany corrected-he knew where that was, just a few miles out from Versailles. "Where are we now?"

"Hell if I know." America replied, sighing. "But we should be close, according the directions I've been given. Only twenty or so miles out, I think."

"Good." Germany leaned back in his seat, going back to his brooding mood. America's sources had also said that there were Russian mafia members in pursuit of the two countries, and he was worried. They had been on the run for over three hours now, and he was certain something was going to happen. He could feel anxiety gnawing at his gut, making him silent and moody. America knew better than to try and interact with the German, and he really had no desire to. The situation had both of them on edge, and he only hoped that they got to their friends before anything could happen…

oOoOoOo

"Italy! Dammit, FUCK, Italy!"

Prussia had dropped to the ground, Italy in his arms. The younger nation's legs had finally given out, and he had crumpled to the ground. Prussia was kneeling beside him, listening as Italy stammered apologies in Italian.

"_M-m-mi dispiace, _Prussia…_m-m-m-mi d-di…"_

"It's okay." Prussia said, listening as Italy's breath sped up. He knew he'd pushed the other nation too far, but what else could they do? Even as they sat there, he could hear the approaching footsteps of the mafia.

_Fuck._

He turned to look up and saw that the Russians were at the mouth of the alley they had turned into once Italy had begun to collapse. An alley with a dead end.

_Double fuck._

"Italy? Italy, we have to try and get out of here."

"H-how?" Italy glanced around them at the tall apartments. There were no doors opening to the small alley, and the only windows were two stories up. Prussia felt a sort of helplessness , something he hadn't felt in a long time. Then the realization came-

He was going to die.

They were _both_ going to die.

He looked back down at the small nation in his arms, and he suddenly felt a surge of anger building inside of him. Fucking Russia and his God damned mafia. Why couldn't they just let poor Italy leave in peace? It wasn't as if he was useful to the larger country, and frankly wouldn't be an asset to England's side. So why all the fuss? Why destroy him, destroy his _country_?

It pissed him off. Italy hadn't done anything to deserve it and, well, not to sound like a prick, but neither had he. Russia could be such a slimy bastard sometimes.

"P-Prussia…"

At Italy's choked whisper he looked back up at the men in the mouth of the alley. They had advanced so that they were only about ten meters in front of the pair. All of their guns were pointed at the nations, and Prussia felt his heart skip a beat.

"_Scheisse_."

Italy knew enough German to know what that meant-not that he couldn't have guessed. It was pretty clear what was going to happen to them. He let out a whimper unintentionally, and he heard Prussia suck in a breath sharply. There was a sound of gun chambering, and a shout in Russian, and the sound of footsteps thundering…wait…

"FELICIANO! DUCK!"

Italy jumped at the sound of the voice, but did as he was told. It wasn't a moment too soon, either-the guns went off, and he felt Prussia crouching down next to him, partially covering the young Italian. He felt a bullet hit his shoulder and he cried out. Prussia swore, his mouth near Italy's ear so it was still audible over the scuffle at the end of the alley. After making sure no more bullets were going to come flying out at them Prussia pushed himself up, wincing. Ah, so they had hit him. He patted his back, finding two wet spots there, though neither appeared to be near any vital spots. He saw Italy's eyes widen as he drew his hand back in front of him, covered in blood.

"P-P-Prussia! Oh, _D-dio_…."

And then the small man promptly fainted in Prussia's arms. The albino's red eyes widened in horror, and he turned to look down at their saviours. Germany was down there, knocking the last gunman down with the butt of his rifle, and America was already heading toward them, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Prussia! Are you alright?"

"Of course I am." Prussia sniffed, trying to keep up his usual bravado. "I'm the awesome Prussia, I can't be knocked down by a few stray bullets."

"Feliciano!" Germany was now running toward them, looking distressed when he saw the blood on both men. He soon passed America, coming to land on his knees in front of his brother and the man he loved.

"_Mein Gott_…"

"He'll be fine, he only got hit once, _bruder_." Prussia assured him, and at the weak sound Germany turned his gaze to his brother, his eyes widening. There was blood spreading over Prussia's back, and his eyes were slowly drifting shut. Germany moved Italy from his brother's arms, and Prussia gave him a tired smile.

"See, I saved 'im, just like I said. Aren't I awesome?"

"_Ja_, Gilbert." Germany tried to smile, but there was so much blood... "We need to get you to a doctor."

"No, we have to get the fuck out of here before Russia finds out." America spoke, finally reaching them. "We need to leave while there's a higher possibility that we won't be followed."

"He's right…for once." Prussia laughed weakly, and Germany's eyes widened when he saw a bit of blood at the corner of his brother's mouth. He scooped Italy up in his arms, trying to be as gentle as possible, and then gestured for America to do the same with Prussia. The sandy blonde did as he was told, in that serious mode he got in when the occasion called for it. The then walked swiftly past the unconscious Russians and out onto the street, making their way to the small field where they'd landed America's plane. They had finally sighted the plane when Prussia's eyes drifted shut, causing America to gasp in alarm.

"Fuck, that's not good. We need to hurry."

Germany saw his brother's closed eyes and swore as well, his pace quickening. When they got to the plane they flung the door open, settling the two injured nation into the back seats as comfortably as they could in the small plane. Only Italy stirred a little, but his eyes didn't open. Germany felt a sharp pang of worry in his gut, and he sat and looked at Italy for a long moment. He didn't look up until he heard the plane's engines starting and America's loud voice.

"You should stay back there with them. Ya know…try and clean them up and…ugh, just stay back there!"

Germany nodded, surprised at America's concerned tone. It was a very rare occurrence, and he could see a flush on America's cheeks as the other nation realized it as well. He turned back to Italy and Prussia as the plane began to ascend, a pit opening in his stomach. He wanted to help Italy first, but new that his brother's situation was direr, so he leaned over his brother and began by pulling off his coat and shirt, both plastered to the pale skin with blood. Germany sucked in a breath, feeling bile rising to his throat at the sheer amount of red everywhere. He succeeded in getting the cloth away from his brother's back, revealing the small wounds, both bleeding rather profusely. Germany made quick work of it, feeling a bit of guilty joy in the fact that his brother was unconscious-Prussia tended to be rather loud and violent when he was in a lot of pain. After he got the bullets out he pressed the already bloody shirt Prussia had been wearing over the wounds, digging around under the seat where he knew America kept a first aid kit. Sure enough, it was there, and he opened it with his free hand to pull out some gauze and bandages. He also found some disinfectant, which was a relief. He poured it onto a piece of gauze, removing the shirt and brushing it over his brother's injuries. Prussia twitched a little, but didn't wake up. A few minutes later and he was all bandaged up, including the wound in his arm from earlier. Germany's face was grim, and he felt his heart sink even more when he turned to Italy…

The young nation still had blood dripping down his face from the bullet earlier, and now there was a patch spreading from the wound in his shoulder. Germany began peeling off Italy's button up shirt, whispering under his breath as he pulled the bullet out.

"I'm sorry, Feli…this is probably going to hurt, I'm sorry…"

Sure, it had probably hurt Prussia too, but the older nation could handle it. Italy may have been rather old, but he was also weak and highly disliked fighting and getting hurt. Italy whimpered as the disinfectant was applied, and Germany was surprised to see his brown eyes flicker open, remaining in a half-lidded position.

"L-Ludwig…?"

"_Ja_, it's me." Germany said in a soft voice, smiling as best he could. "Sorry, Feli, I know it hurts but I have to clean it."

"Oh…" Italy glanced down at the wound in his shoulder, wincing as Germany brush the cloth on it. "_M-mi dispiace_, Ludwig…i-it's all my f-f-fault, a-and P-Prussia got shot, because I-I couldn't keep r-r-running…"

"It's not your fault." Germany scolded him softly, leaning his forehead on the other nation's so that his eyes were gazing into Italy's amber ones. "I'm so proud of you for going for as long as you did, Feliciano. You managed to keep running for over three hours, and that was with the Russian _mafia_ after you."

"Hehe, well, I do have one of my own…" Italy gave him a weak smile, and Germany felt a bit of relief flooding through his system. He lifted his head from Italy's, ruffling his hair slightly.

"I'm sorry, but it's going to have to hurt for a little bit longer; I have to bandage it."

"I-it's fine…" Italy smiled weakly again. "I can t-t-take it."

"Alright." Germany finished as quickly as he could, hearing Italy gasp softly every now and then, but he knew stopping would only make the pain last longer. When he finally finished wrapping the gauze around the small shoulder he moved to the deep cut on Italy's face. It ran from the front of his ear to the corner of his eye, and there was a trail of blood that ran all the way down his cheek to his neck. When he touched the disinfectant to it Italy cried out, causing America to turn his head slightly.

"Oh, Italy's awake! Hey, bud, how're ya doing?"

"F-f-fine!" Italy said, his voice tight with pain. Germany used his free hand to clutch the small tan one, squeezing it reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, Feli."

"N-no, it's fine." Italy gasped as the wound started bleeding again. Germany just pressed a piece of gauze to it, taping it down.

"That will have to do for now. We still have a few hours before we land in Venice."

"V-Venice?" Italy brightened slightly. "We're going to my house?"

"_Ja_." Germany replied, letting Italy droop his head onto his shoulder. "We thought it would be safest."

"R-really?" Italy sighed softly. "That's good…I haven't been home in almost a week, I bet my poor boss is really worried since Romano and I-"

Italy froze, suddenly shooting upright. Germany kept a tight grip on his hand, surprised, as Italy's eyes widened in panic.

"What's wrong?"

"Romano! H-have you heard anything?"

"_Nein_, Feli, we haven't heard anything. What happened?"

"Prussia said h-he was being a d-decoy, so we could get away! B-but what if he got hurt, o-or even worse, k-ki-!"

"Don't think about it." Germany said, putting his hand on Italy's uninjured cheek and brushing his gloved thumb against it. "I'm sure he's alright, Feli. You…well, you would have felt it, right? Like before?"

During the previous wars, Germany had noted that the connection between the two brothers was very strong. When Italy got hurt Romano somehow felt it, and vice versa. It had always worried him a little, but Italy assured him that it was a good thing, knowing when his brother got hurt. At the moment Italy was thinking about whether he'd felt anything, but his own pain was distracted him from any other feelings.

"I-I don't know…s-something could have h-happened while I was out…t-to _fratello_…"

"Feliciano." Germany said sternly as Italy's breath began to hitch in anxiety. "Your brother is going to be fine. You just need to worry about your own injuries, alright?"

"B-but…"

Germany's light glare silenced his protests, and Italy led his head fall back down onto Germany's shoulder with a defeated sigh. Germany brushed Italy's auburn hair back from his face, a small smile on his own as Italy's breaths evened out once more and his eyes drifted shut. But Italy forced them open again, only to have them slide shut a few seconds later. Germany chuckled.

"Go to sleep, Feli. It's alright."

"Don' wanna…" Italy mumbled sleepily, but Germany knew the small nation was fighting a losing battle. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Italy's eyes fell shut, and stayed there. Germany smiled warmly, relieved to see that Italy's face was calm and he didn't seem to be in too much pain. He kept his hand laced in the other's, turning to glance at his brother who was still completely out of it. Despite the fear and anger nagging at the back of his mind, the moment was so peaceful that Germany felt his own eyes shutting. After all, he had only been bombed less than forty-eight hours before, and he was still recovering. He let himself drift off, his head leaning on top of Italy's, a small smile gracing his lips…

_At least you're here with me…._

oOoOoOo

"How dare you!"

Romano winced as Russia's fist hit him in the side of the head for the eleventh time in the past quarter of an hour. They had caught him, as he'd thought they would, and Russia was angrier than a Spanish bull. He had sent some mafia members after Prussia and Veneziano, but Romano hoped Prussia was smart enough not to let his brother get caught by them. After sending out his men, Russia had dragged Romano into France's basement and tied him to a chair to await punishment. Thankfully, Canada had escaped any implication in the escape, and so he was sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the room like always. Apparently he had tied the rope of sheets to the end of the bed and had pretended to have just gotten in the room, barely missing the escapees. Romano felt a relieved smile make its way to his lips, and then Russia's fist hitting him again.

"What are you smiling about? You realize what you've done, da?"

"Yeah, I let my brother escape from a slimy Russian bastard." Romano replied defiantly, causing Russia's hand to whip out again, this time catching Romano in the chest. The brunette winced-_well, there goes a rib. Or two._ "And you know what? I don't regret it at all, you cold bastard."

Another punch to the gut. Romano could already feel the bruises building all over his body, but he didn't care. He knew that Veneziano was safe, and that was all that mattered. He did regret having to hit Lithuania across the head to do it, but the green-eyed nation had offered.

"_Make it look more authentic, you know."_

Romano winced at the memory, trying to catch a glimpse of the other nation, but he the ropes restrained his movement. He cursed, turning to glare at Russia again.

"Why the hell does it matter to you anyway? You've always insulted my brother , so why do you care if he leaves?"

"Because I do. That should be enough reason, da?" Russia had a smile on his face, but somehow, that made him even scarier in Romano's eyes. "If I want Italy to stay, he will stay. Otherwise…well, I think you've seen what happens, da?"

Romano nodded grudgingly- he'd certainly felt it. He just hoped that Italy didn't-

His body suddenly jerked, and he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He saw Russia smirk at his pain, knowing exactly what it meant. Romano did too.

"N-no….Veneziano…"

"Ah, they must have caught them. Took them long enough." Russia's grin was pure ice, and Romano felt his heart catch, his shoulder still throbbing. The pain was only a few inches from hitting a vital spot, and the thought made a small bit of relief hit his mind. Italy wasn't dead…

_Not yet_…

Romano scowled, glaring at Russia, his hazel eyes bright with anger.

"Why did you tell them to shoot, you icy bastard?"

"Hm? Well, little Italy is a nation, da?" Russia chuckled wickedly. "I'm sure he wouldn't die from something like that."

"You BASTARD!" Romano snapped, struggling against the ropes that bound him, trying to ignore the pain from his own wounds and his brother's. Russia just grinned maliciously, turning away from Romano and gesturing for the other nations in the room to leave. The Baltics scurried out, followed by the supposed leader France, and then Canada. With one last smirk, Russia followed them, shutting the door behind him and leaving Romano tied to the chair, silent tears pouring down his cheeks…

"Don't you fucking die, Veneziano…_per favore, Dio,_ don't let him die…"

oOoOoOo

Dio-God (in Italian)

Mein Gott- My God (in German)


	10. 9: Rain

A/N: Poor Romano ;A;

More Prussia, thus, more swearing ( though Romano and America are frequent perpetrators as well).

A couple nations joining us in this lovely chapter (about time, right?)

Also, anyone who knows the lyrics for this chapter is officially amazing 8D

Onward!

oOoOoOo

"_The man who's a dreamer and never takes leave,  
Who thinks of a world that is just make-believe-  
Will never know passion, will never know pain;  
Who sits by the window, will one day see rain…"_

oOoOoOo

"AUGHGODFUCKINGDAMMIT!"

"Classy."

England was changing Prussia's bandages, having been the only without something to do at the moment the albino woke up, though he suspected the others had done it on purpose. He didn't blame them either, as Prussia was currently screaming in ear as he disinfected the wound again. His red eyes were narrowed in pain, and he look (as America had put it) pissed as hell.

"Yeah, well you could have been more fucking CAREFUL when you're cleaning a guy's injury like that! _Gott_, Iggy, that fucking HURTS."

"Really? I couldn't tell." England grumbled sarcastically, and Prussia opened his mouth just as Italy opened the door, peeking his reddish hair through the small opening.

"Ah, h-hello, England. I-I was just coming to see how things were going."

"They're going fine, Italy." England replied, sighing. "Are you supposed to be up yet?"

"Ve, I was just going to the restroom when I head Prussia's yelling. I wanted to make sure nothing was happening to him."

England felt his features soften as Italy pushed the door open and walked the rest of the way into the room with slow steps. Germany had told them to give him painkillers every six hours, but Italy refused, saying it was his only tie with Romano at that moment. He wanted to make sure his brother was alright, and so far all he felt was a dull ache in his chest and the pain from his own wounds, which was a relief.

"He's fine and dandy, Italy. The sodding pussy just needs to grow up."

"I'm _not_ a pussy. No one awesome like me can be a pussy." Prussia retorted, but he turned to look at Italy who was now at his bedside, and he smiled wearily. "Hey there, kid. How're you feelin'?"

"Fine." Italy replied, looking sad as England rewrapped Prussia's back. "_M-mi dispiace_, Prussia-it's my fault you got hurt."

"Oi, don't apologize." Prussia's mouth crooked up in a lopsided grin. "It was my ridiculous plan to begin with. Lud was going to go batshit with worry otherwise."

"Still…" Italy twisted his fingers nervously. "You didn't have to do that. I-I was fine staying at that house…"

"You mean being held prisoner." England grumbled, and Italy flushed.

"Ah, well, _s-si_, you could say that…"

"He was, kid, and you can't deny it. Damn French bastard." Prussia grumbled, and Italy shook his head jerkily.

"N-no, I don't think _Francia_ is all that bad. He's just confused, a-and stressed…"

"It's still not acceptable, Italy." England told the smaller nation. "He had no right to hit you, or keep you locked in his house."

"He's right, kid." Prussia smirked. "Though I hate to admit it. But he isn't being very fair at all in this fucking war. I mean, who in their right mind is going to stand up to Russia?"

"B-but we have America, right?" Italy asked, and England sighed.

"That we do. But Alfred's boss is already talking about pulling him out of this war, and frankly, France has more likelihood of gaining allies. He is, after all, on the mainland."

"You have _bruder_, though." Prussia said, leaning back onto his pillows. "That's gotta count for something, right?"

"It does." England replied shortly, running a hand through his golden locks. "But it's not enough. We need more support."

"I can help." Italy piped up, but both Prussia and England shook their heads, the latter laughing.

"Sorry, kid, but you need to stay here and keep out of this."

"You shouldn't have been brought into it in the first place. That sodding wine freak should have known better."

"B-but I want to help!" Italy cried softly, and Prussia reached out and touched his arm.

"We know you do, kid. We just want to look out for you."

"That's all anyone does." Italy whispered, and Prussia was surprised at how sad his voice sounded. He smiled, punching Italy in the arm lightly.

"Hey, don't make it sound like that. We know you can take care of yourself."

Italy didn't say anything, but he was staring at his bare feet (now bandaged once more). His face was hidden by auburn bangs, but Prussia had a feeling that he was crying by the way his shoulders were shaking. Prussia pulled him down onto the bed, wrapping his good arm around Italy's thin shoulders.

"Hey, hey, don't go crying now or West'll have my head."

"_M-mi disp-p-piace." _Italy sobbed, but Prussia just let him bury his head in his shoulder. He was a bit uncomfortable, but he started patting Italy's back reassuringly.

"It's alright, kid, I guess you can cry if you need to…"

England tiptoed out, politely leaving them alone. Italy kept crying for several minutes, until heavy footsteps sounded outside Prussia's door. He pulled away from the albino, scrubbing his eyes on his sleeve as Germany flung the door open.

"Feliciano! Don't scare me like that."

"Oh, Ludwig!" Italy's voice was bright once more, and Prussia raised a pale eyebrow as Italy ran over to Germany and pulled him into a crushing hug. "I'm sorry! I just wanted to make sure Prussia was alright!"

"You're supposed to be in bed." Germany grumbled, but he noticed Italy's reddened eyes when the shorter nation looked up at him. He brushed back Italy's hair, frowning. "Were you crying?"

"N-no, of course not." Italy lied, but when he saw Germany's annoyed expression he bowed his head and amended. "_Si_. I'm sorry, I know you always tell me not to cry, b-but…"

Germany sighed as Italy's eyes welled with tears again, and he drew the small man against his chest. Italy gave a small squeak of surprise, but then he allowed himself to snuggle into the other's warmth. Germany let him, and that admission surprised Prussia. Germany had never been one to let people get close to him, but with Italy he didn't seem to mind. In fact, if the small smile on his brother's face said anything, his brother seemed to enjoy having Italy cuddling up to his chest. Prussia hid his smirk behind his hand, and Germany glared at him.

"Don't you dare say anything." The younger brother grumbled, and Prussia just chuckled.

"I won't."

Germany just glared at him, leading Italy out of the room and down the hallway back to the room Italy used to share with his brother. The thought made Italy cry again, and Germany stroked his hair, shushing him softly.

"Shh, Feli, it's alright, you're okay now…"

"B-but _f-fratello_, he's still a-at _Francia's _h-house…what if he gets h-hurt?"

"He won't, Feli." Germany assured him, though he wasn't that certain himself. "Your brother can take care of himself. You just worry about taking care of yourself, alright?" he ruffled the shorter man's hair affectionately. "Let me worry about everything else."

"B-but…" Italy trailed off as Germany connected their lips in a soft kiss. Italy's eyes widened in surprise, then drifted shut again. It was what he'd wanted all along, and it felt so right that, even with what was happening, he felt a small bubble of happiness well inside him. It didn't pop, either, when Germany finally drew back, a light blush on his pale cheeks. Italy chuckled, poking one of them.

"Aw, Ludwig, you don't have to be embarrassed."

"Sh-shut up!" Germany's blush deepened, and Italy laughed, tweaking his nose.

"That's so cute~! I made Ludwig blush!"

Germany growled, putting Italy in a light headlock, making sure not to hurt the other nation through his teasing. He noogied Italy's head, scowling playfully.

"Damn you, Feliciano!"

They both suddenly froze as a loud laugh sounded from the stairs. Germany cursed as America strode into view, wishing he'd taken Italy inside his room.

"Aw, that's so freaking cute! Look, Japan, Germany and Italy are being all cutesy!"

"Ve, Japan!" Italy pulled himself out of Germany's arms, skipping over to the short man. Japan smiled faintly, though it quickly turned to a frown when he noticed the bandage peeking out Italy's collar, and the one across his cheek.

"Italy-kun." Japan put his hands up to stop Italy from jumping on him. "Are you sure you should be up like this?"

"Ve, Japan, I'm fine, really!" Italy's lie was so transparent it made his old ally's heart pang. "Ludwig already treated them, and I took some awesome medicine this morning!"

"Is that so?" Japan muttered, turning his head slightly to see America laughing and giving Germany crap about his display of affection. However, the latter's gaze was still on Italy, and Japan could see the deep concern in his blue eyes. Japan sighed, turning back to face Italy as they young man grabbed his hand.

"Ve, that's right, you haven't visited since the end of the war! Come on, Japan, I can show you the new decorations I put up!"

"Ah, I-Italy-kun, really, shouldn't you be resting…?"

"_Ja_, he should." Germany put his arm around Italy, drawing the young nation back toward his room. Italy gasped, pouting when he leaned his head back.

"But Ludwig, I don't want to rest, not..."

Germany looked into the amber eyes of his lover and saw the end to that sentence written in them quite clearly;

…_not without my brother…_

He sighed, scooping Italy up and, ignoring the whoops of America and Japan's startled gasp, began walking off toward the guest room he had been using.

"Fine, then, you'll just have to rest in here."

"Ve, Ludwig?" Italy looked confused, but then he smiled. "You mean it? You won't get mad at me?"

"Of course not." Germany grumbled, trying to hide his blush, but Italy giggled again.

"I made you blush twice~!"

"Feli…"

Italy just laughed again, but his eyes were already drooping. Germany sighed, knowing that it meant Italy had been pushing himself in order to remain strong in appearance. Well, as strong as Italy ever looked. But then again, who had ever really looked that deep? Germany felt a frown making its way to his face as he tucked Italy into his borrowed bed. He turned to leave the room, but the he felt a slight tugging on his arm. When he looked down he saw that Italy had grabbed his sleeve, his brown eyes still partially open.

"Stay…?"

Germany hesitated, but only for a moment-he took off his coat, pants, and his shirt, until he was wearing nothing but his white undershirt and boxers. He then joined Italy under the covers, letting the other nation snuggle into his chest, sighing contentedly. The sound was enough to drive away any of the nervousness Germany felt, and he brushed back Italy's hair again, feeling Italy twitch when he brushed against the curl on the side. He stopped, but Italy just shook his head and murmured sleepily.

"Nn…feels good…not bad…"

Germany raised his blonde eyebrows, but he resumed his actions, and Italy sighed happily. After less than five minutes, Italy's breathing evened out, and the hand that had been curling in Germany's undershirt relaxed slightly. His hand dropped, resting on Italy's shoulder, and he let his own eyes drift shut. Well, a little nap wouldn't hurt. Besides, it was the only way to make sure Italy stayed in bed. Yes, that was why he was doing it, definitely not because…he swallowed, but let his body curl protectively around the smaller one next to him, and in moments he joined his lover in the realm of sleep.

oOoOoOo

"You're going to join us?"

Japan nodded, looking down at the cup of tea in his hands. England had brewed it for him, and they were sitting down in Italy's kitchen to discuss the reason for the Asian country's visit. England's thick eyebrow's shot up when Japan explained.

"_Hai_, I am. I have carefully considered it, and I think it is best to join your side in order to protect my friends and my family. Also, China-san would like to join as well."

"China?" England's eyebrows shot up as high as they could go. "He's going to join our side? Why in the name of the Queen would he do that?"

"Because Russia has been pestering him to join France-san's side, but he's also threatened him. Yao-san doesn't want his people to be hurt, and he knows exactly what Russia is capable of. I am certain you do as well."

England felt a chill run up his spine, and he nodded.

"Of course I do. I've seen Lithuania, and the other Baltics. I've heard many accounts from other nations as well, from the wars…" England's voice trailed off, another shudder running through him at the memories. He'd been one of the countries to aid the one's whom Russia had trampled over, and was so entirely shocked at what he found. Prussia and Hungary had been the worst-it had taken them years to even _look_ at Russia without running out of the room. And they were the strongest willed too…

"_Hai_, and I don't want that to happen to anyone." Japan bowed his head, black hair veiling his brown eyes. "Especially Italy-kun."

"None of us want to see him get hurt." England assured him, voice surprisingly soft. "In fact, I don't want to see anyone get hurt. But…well, this is war, isn't it? Someone's going to get hurt…"

Japan just nodded solemnly, realising as he stared down into his tea cup that it sounded more like a premonition than anything…

oOoOoOo

"Roderich!"

Austria winced as Hungary flung herself onto him, her strong arms pulling him to her in a crushing embrace. He winced, gasping.

"Elizabeta…Liz, that hurts…"

"What? Oh, sorry!" She let him go, staring into his violet eyes, a deep frown on her face. "How was Ludwig?"

"He was fine when I left him. He said he was going off to England to find out where Prussia went."

"Eh? Gil went missing?" Hungary couldn't help crying out, suddenly worried. Austria sighed, shaking his head.

"It's not that he went missing, per se…it's more like he went off to do something stupid. Again, I might add."

"Eh? What is he doing? Does this have to do Italy?" Hungary's green eyes widened, and Roderich knew her well enough to know the deep worry harboured in them. After all, Hungary had taken care of little Italy back in the days he lived with Austria and Holy Roman Empire. She had become greatly attached to the other nation, and was one of the ones who visited as often as she could. When she'd heard the news of France's capture of Italy she had been horrified.

"I don't know if it does, but from what I could tell, he's just trying to help his brother. Ludwig and Italy got together." He felt his mouth twitching-he was unsure of the new relationship between Germany and Italy, but he also felt a small bit of happiness at the thought. Elizabeta's mouth turned up in a smile, and she clapped her hands together happily.

"Finally! Oh, I'm so happy for them-I always told Italy that he just needed to wait."

"Well, Ludwig is stubborn." Austria agreed, finally making his way past his ex-wife and into the living room. He sat down on the couch with a sigh, rubbing his temples wearily. He felt the couch dip down and then a hand making circles on his back in a soothing way.

"Is it that bad?" Hungary asked him in a soft voice. Austria nodded slowly, another sigh merging from his mouth.

"Germany was bombed pretty awfully, Liz. England is going to retaliate-he has to, really. But that just means it's too late to back out of this war."

"I know." Hungary whispered, adding in an even softer voice. "Roderich…you're going to join England's side, aren't you?"

Austria nodded again, leaning back so he was looking into her soft green eyes. She was frowning, but he also saw that there was a sort of determination in her eyes, one that reminded of him of just how protective his ex-wife could be.

"I have to, Liz. They're going to need help they can get, with Russia on the opposing side."

"I know." Hungary said again, a small smile on her lips. "And besides, despite the fact that you always act aloft and uptight, I know you really want to protect them. Right?"

"Yes." Austria admitted, trying to bow his head again, but Hungary put her fingers under it and drew it up so that he was looking at her again.

"I will join them too, Roderich. I will help you."

"What? No, you can't." Even though they weren't married, Austria still felt panic run through him at Hungary's words. "You need to stay out of this, Elizabeta."

"I can't, Roderich. Not knowing that you, and Geramny, and poor Italy have been dragged into it already." Hungary smiled sadly. "Besides, who's going to be your backup otherwise?"

"Liz…" Roderich sighed in defeat, knowing better than to protest anymore. "Fine."

She smiled, kissing his forehead before moving off of the couch. He blinked in surprise, following her with his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Italy." She replied, smiling. "And I'll let England know of our plans. You just got home, so you're going to need some rest."

"Wait, Liz-"

"I'll be back before you know it." She replied, still smiling as she shut the door behind her. Austria watched the door close, and then let his head drop back into his hands. He had never wanted to join this war, but he had certain familial obligations. Even if they weren't really family, he had also felt protective of the others, and that was the reason why he was finally declaring a side in the war. Germany had finally found a bit of peace with Italy, and no one wanted to see that destroyed.

Even if it meant taking on the most powerful country in the world.

oOoOoOo


	11. 10: Worth the Risk

A/N: Sooo my life kind of went to hell in a handbasket this weekend. My brother kind of lopped of part of his finger, so my life is going to be crazy for a few weeks. Hopefully this doesn't mess with my updating, but in case it does, I apologize in advance.

I'm also trying to include a few more couplings in here : )

Also, yay for chapter ten! :D

oOoOoOo

"_And I've always lived like this,  
Keeping a comfortable distance;  
And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness,  
Because none of it was ever worth the risk…"_

oOoOoOo

Italy blinked open his eyes, and was surprised to find that Germany was still in bed with him. He smiled happily-he had expected the other nation to leave sometime while Italy was still asleep, but he hadn't, and that made Italy very happy. It meant that Germany really did love him, that he wasn't going to leave him. Italy was always afraid of people leaving him, though he'd never admit it. Every time someone would walk away he'd always wonder if it would be for the last time, or if it meant something deeper, or…

"Nn…Feliciano?"

Italy felt a smile light up his face as Germany's blue eyes flickered open. He giggled happily, kissing Germany's cheek.

"_Buon giorno ,_ Ludwig."

Germany just sighed, pulling Italy back to his chest, and the smaller nation felt another bubble of glee working its way into his heart. Germany was actually cuddling him _willingly_. Sure, Italy had crawled into the other's bed many times in the past, but Germany had always yelled at him for it. Italy snuggled into Germany's chest, sighing contentedly as he felt Germany's hand rubbing his back. This was what he'd always wanted, just him and Germany, finally together…

Suddenly Italy froze, and a distinct feeling of dread fell over him, but it felt detached, as if it was somehow not a part of him. He gasped in horror, realizing exactly what it meant. Germany looked down as Italy's eyes opened again, and his voice was soft as he asked.

"What's wrong?"

"_F-fratello_…" Italy whispered, hands gripping at Germany's undershirt. "Someone's threatening him…h-he's scared…so scared…"

"Shh, Feli, it's alright." Germany soothed as Italy began to shake. He reluctantly pried the smaller nation's fingers from his shirt and stood up. Italy sat up, watching him with wide eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"To find out what's going on." Germany replied, pulling on the pants he'd discarded the night before. "Canada might have said something to America while we were sleeping."

"W-wait!" Italy swung his legs over the side of the bed, intending to follow his lover. Germany however, just walked over and placed his hands on Italy's shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed gently.

"You have to stay here, Feli-you're still injured, you need your rest. I'll be right back, okay?" he smiled reassuringly, mussing Italy's hair. Italy pouted, but nodded reluctantly. Germany walked out of the room, and as the door closed Italy felt his heart sink. He threw himself back down onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow as he whispered the words he'd wanted to tell Germany, but hadn't.

"Don't leave me…"

oOoOoOo

"Matt….Mattie, calm down, just take a deep breath, okay? Just tell us what's going on, alright?"

Germany walked into the living room to see America clutching his cell phone, knuckles white from the pressure he was putting on them. His blue eyes were wide in fear, and the other countries in the room were watching him, including…

"Elizabeta?" Germany said, and everyone's eyes turned to him. The female nation smiled wearily, getting up from the couch and walking over to greet him.

"_Szia_, Ludwig."

"What are you doing here?" Germany asked, keeping his voice annoyed to cover his worry, but Hungary's next words only confirmed the horrible thought he'd just been conjuring up.

"I am here to inform England that Roderich and I have decided to join him."

"What?" Germany couldn't help yelling, and Hungary looked a bit sad.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig, but-"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

Everyone was surprised by America's shout, and all attention shifted back to him. The normally rambunctious nation looked absolutely terrified, and his deep blue eyes were impossibly wide in horror. England placed a hand on his former colony's arm, his mouth drawn in a frown.

"What's wrong, Alfred?"

"Mattie…wait, Mattie, please just listen to me." America didn't seem to have heard England's question-he was still speaking into his phone, sounding anxious. "Mattie, just get out of there. It's too dangerous, and if he follows through I won't be able t-no, damn it! You can't do anything to stop him! Brother-Matthew Williams, don't you dare hang u-FUCK!"

America slammed his phone shut, throwing into the empty spot on the couch with great enough force to tear the fabric. England kept his hand on America's arm, looking sad.

"Alfred, what's going on?"

"Russia's planning some large offensive, bombing several countries including…" his breath hitched, and all of them were surprised to see a tear making its way down America's cheek. "England, Germany, Italy, and….America."

"What?" Germany gasped in alarm, thinking of what Italy had said upstairs. _Romano already knows, then…_

"He's doing it as soon as he can, maybe in mere minutes. Matt just found out…" America sucked in a shaky breath. "He said he and France were going to try and stop him, but…"

"It won't work." England scowled, but he surprised them all by pulling America into a hug. "I'm sorry, Al…I'm sorry I got you into this."

"I-I've never been bombed before." America sobbed, his tears finally coming full force. "N-no one's ever…"

"I know, Alfred." England whispered, patting his 'son's' back a bit awkwardly. He looked at Germany over the sandy blonde's shoulder. "We need to contact our governments, have them put the troops on alert. We don't know when they could-"

He was cut off by a piercing scream from upstairs, and all of them gasped. Germany was the first to take off, his feet pounding the wooden floor as he made his way back to his room, knowing exactly who was screaming. He flung open the door and, sure enough, there was Italy, curled up at the end of the bed with his head tucked under. His breaths were coming out as sharp gasps, and there were tears pouring down his cheeks. Germany rushed to his side, putting his arms around him as England and Hungary appeared in the doorway. Both had wide green eyes, and Hungary looked horrified.

"Their bombing Italy." She whispered. "They're actually bombing Italy."

"_F-fra…tello_…" Italy whimpered, and Germany scowled. Russia was doing it on purpose-hitting Italy first would show just how little heart Russia had. He wouldn't hesitate to attack anyone, and the thought made pure anger well in Germany's heart. Italy whimpered again, curling up tighter, and England swore.

"They'll be going after us soon. Alfred and I will inform all of our bosses to be on high alert."

With that their supposed leader took off, going back down to the living room where Alfred had remained. Hungary, however, just stepped further into the room, sitting on the bed on the opposite side of Italy. She brushed her hand through his auburn hair, knowing it was one of the things that calmed him down. She also whispered comforting words in Hungarian, something she had always done when Italy was a young child. Her heart welled with pity as she felt his body trembling in pain, but there was also anger at the man who would dare do such a thing to Italy. Her green gaze met Germany's blue, and she saw the same thing reflected there.

Russia was going to pay.

oOoOoOo

Romano felt a scream tear from his throat, his entire body wracked in pain. He'd known of the plan-Russia was going to hit Italy first, to show the other countries how little mercy he was planning on showing. He was also mainly sticking to southern Italy, knowing that it didn't really matter which one he hurt-both were going to feel the pain. Romano screamed again, feeling the agony of his people as his cities burned. Tears leaked from his eyes, and he looked up to see Russia smirking. He scowled through his tears, yelling.

"You fucking cold BASTARD! I hope Germany fucking OBLITERATES you for this!"

"I don't think Germany could, da? Not with bombs heading his way in…" Russia checked his watch. "Half an hour."

Romano's hazel eyes were hard, but when he met the gaze of the man behind Russia, he knew he wasn't the only one suffering. Poor Lithuania had a bandage around his head from before, and even with his shirt on Romano could see the bruises Russia had created. Right next to Lithuania was Canada, whose violet-blue eyes were wide in horror and also loathing, and Romano knew why. Canada and America were like him and Veneziano-almost two halves of a whole, brothers with an unbreakable bond. And Russia had labelled America as a target….

"BASTARD!" Romano snarled, trying to break free from his restraints, but Russia knew what he was doing, and the ropes held strong. He bowed his head, trying to will the tears from his eyes, but he could feel not only his own pain but his brother's as well. He knew Italy was probably terrified, but at least he hoped that Germany was with his brother. That was one small comfort, and Romano clung to it. He just hoped that their people would be able to withstand the bombings, because without the strength of their people Romano knew just he and his brother were not enough to keep their country alive. He felt fear clutching at his chest at the thought of their beautiful country disappearing, and that was enough to galvanize him into action. He pushed up on his shaky legs, bringing his head up so it came in contact with Russia's chin. The taller man grunted in surprise, but then he swung out, his large hand connecting with Romano's chin, effectively knocking the Italian out. Russia scowled.

"I'll teach you to mess with Russia, Lovino Vargas…"

oOoOoOo

"Italy!"

Hungary gasped as Italy's eyes shut and his body went limp. Germany gaped at the unconscious man in his arms, his blue eyes going wide with dread.

"Feli….Feliciano, no!" He shook Italy gently, trying to garner some kind of response. "Feliciano, don't do this!"

"We have to get him help." Hungary whispered, her voice shaking with supressed tears. "Ludwig, we have to stop them from bombing his country, or it'll only get worse."

"I know." Germany ground out, trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest as he watched Italy draw in erratic breaths. Finally, he set his lover back onto the bed and stood up. "I'm going to contact my troops."

"Wait!" Hungary called out, and he paused. "Let Roderich and I handle this. You already have the threat of attack to deal with-they don't know that he and I have joined this yet."

"Exactly-why implicate yourselves already?" Germany replied, but Hungary could see the hesitance in his clear blue eyes. She smiled sadly, letting her hand stroke Italy's hair methodically.

"Because I want to protect this, Ludwig. You and Italy…you need to cherish the time you have together, and I'm going to help you do that as much as I can."

"Elizabeta…" Germany stared at her, mouth hanging open. He'd never known Hungary to be so soft, but then again, she had always been protective. The way she spoke seemed to come from experience, and Germany new exactly why-after all, it wasn't exactly a secret what had happened between her, Austria, and Prussia in the past. He felt a small pang of pity for the other nation, but she just smiled sombrely.

"Stay with him, and I will go contact Roderich. Besides, I'm sure he'd appreciate waking up with you again." Hungary smiled fondly at the young man next to her, and Germany knew that was her way of saying that she fully accepted their relationship. He flushed slightly at the thought, but he walked back over to the bed, and Hungary stood up so he could sit next to the shaking Italy. He pulled his lover's head onto his lap, and he saw Hungary's smile grow wider at the sight. It fell away after a moment, however, and she turned to leave, a sigh escaping her lips.

"I'll be back later, I hope. See you around, Ludwig."

Germany just nodded, unwilling to look up from Italy's pale face, the bandage he placed the night before soaking through with new blood. He cursed, watching as several other cuts appeared on the small body, just had they done to him only a few days before. Hungary heard his curses from the hall, and felt her anger overwhelming any fear that was in her heart.

_Damn you, Russia…._

oOoOoOo

"Liet!"

Lithuania jumped at the loud voice, but then he smiled weakly when he saw Poland's blonde head peeking around the door. Poland, however, wasn't smiling, and Lithuania knew why-he instantly drew his sheets up over his body to hide the evidence, but he knew Poland had already seen it. The blonde ran over, placing his hands on Lithuania's shoulders.

"Did that bastard, like, hurt you again?"

"N-no…" Lithuania lied, but he knew it was pointless-Poland had seen it happen far too many times before. But before he could say anything else, Lithuania stammered. "P-please, Feliks, don't d-do anything stupid!"

"Like, why would I do anything stupid? I'm not an idiot." Poland's hard eyes contradicted his words, and Lithuania grabbed the hands on his shoulders, pale green eyes wide and pleading.

"Please, Feliks, you won't stand any chance against him. He's only gotten w-worse…"

"What do you mean?" Poland asked, and Lithuania began to shake as he whispered.

"R-Russia…I think he's snapped."

"Duh, I already knew that, Liet." Poland replied, but Lithuania shook his head.

"You don't get it, Feliks. I-I think….I think he killed Romano."

oOoOoOo

A/N: Aw hell.

Cliffhanger!

Szia-hello (in Hungarian)


	12. 11: Fairy Tales

A/N: Listening to Les Mis and typing fanfiction…this is bliss ^.^

Poor Italy ;A;

(Lol this was done a few days ago DX way to update, Kira….)

Review ? Please ? Pretty Please? Pretty please with a cherry and Italy on top?

oOoOoOo

"_Story books full of fairy tales;  
Of kings and queens and the bluest skies…  
My heart is torn just in knowing,  
You'll someday see the truth from lies…_

When the clouds will rage, and storms will race in, 

_But you will be safe in my arms…  
Rains will pour down, waves will crash all around-  
But you will be safe, in my arms…"_

oOoOoOo

The moment Italy woke up he knew something was wrong. He felt weak, like he'd just had a nasty bout of the flu, and his eyes felt heavy. But there was also an absence, one he recognized, and he gasped, trying to sit up. He had to find his brother, had to make sure-

"Feliciano!"

He looked up, surprised to find Germany behind him. Which meant his head must've been on the other man's lap…he blinked, trying to remember what had happened. He'd been lying down, trying to go back to sleep, when…

The pain. The awful pain, one like he'd never felt before, but it wasn't even his pain. No, most of it was…

"L-Lovino!" he gasped, coughing slightly as his chest tightened in pain. Germany drew him back so he was resting against his broad chest, a deep frown on his face.

"Don't move, Feliciano. You're only going to hurt yourself more."

"W-what happened?" Italy asked, and Germany's frown deepened.

"Your country was bombed last night, but this part of the country didn't receive the majority of the damage."

"B-but what about _f-fratello_?" Italy asked, dreading the answer, and Germany sighed mournfully.

"We don't know, but ….Feli, it's not looking good. England went down there after the bombs stopped, and he said that it was…"

Germany didn't need to finish the sentence-Italy could see It all from the look on his face. He felt his eyes welling up with tears again-he didn't want to think about it, but how could he doubt what he felt? He didn't feel the connection with his brother anymore…but no, he couldn't believe it.

"He's not dead." Italy whispered, tears running down his pale cheeks. "H-he can't be, Ludwig, h-he can't!"

"Calm down, Feli." Germany murmured as Italy's breath sped up, running his hand down Italy's face, and he was shocked to feel how warm it was. He swore-a fever in a nation was never a good sign. While North Italy had been mostly spared, there were still a few areas that had been decimated, and his brother's supposed death or serious injury wasn't helping anything. Germany let his hand run up and down Italy's flushed cheek, soothing the smaller nation. There was no one in the house other than them and Prussia in the other room-America, Japan, and England had gone back to their own countries to attempt to push back Russia's planes. Hungary had called a few hours ago, telling him that she and Austria had successfully pushed them out of Italy, which was a relief. Other than that, however, he hadn't heard anything from the others, and he was actually getting worried-

His phone rang, and both he and Italy jumped at the sound. He grabbed it from the side table, flipping it open.

"Hello, this is Germany."

"Oh, good, I got the number right!"

Germany blinked in surprise-the voice sounded like America's, but much softer than he'd ever heard the other nation speak. Besides, America knew his number, so who…?

"It's me. Canada." The person on the other end of the line informed him after a long moment of silence. Germany gasped, and said.

"Oh, Canada."

"Yes. I-I was calling because Italy never answers his phone…"

Germany snorted-he knew that much was true. The fact that he hadn't heard a phone going off in the room meant it was probably left lying around somewhere.

"He never does. What do you need, Canada? It's not really the best time…"

"That's why I'm calling!" Canada said his voice suddenly rising a pitch. "I-I'm with Romano at the moment."

"You are?" Germany gasped, his grip on Italy tightening subconsciously. "How is he? Is he…?"

"He's alive." Canada told him, and Germany heaved a deep sigh, relieved.

"Oh, _Gott_, that's good to hear. We were thinking something had happened, especially after England saw what it looked like. How bad is it?"

"Well…" Canada hesitated, but he finally said in a soft voice. "Russia beat him."

"What?" Germany couldn't contain his horrified exclamation, and Italy started, his amber eyes going wide in question. Canada sighed sadly.

"Romano tried to head butt Russia, and, well…he wasn't too happy, to put it mildly. So he hit him, with his pipe, a-and…" Canada's voice broke. "It was awful, Germany. H-he's barely breathing, a-and there's nothing we can do. I-I asked to bring him to a hospital, but R-Russia said no."

"Bastard." Germany growled, running his hand through Italy's hair to calm him. "Doesn't he know what will happen if Ro-if he dies?"

"What's going on? Ludwig?" Italy gazed up at him, his entire body trembling. Germany just hushed him, trying to smile.

"Just hold on a moment, Feli. Just let me finish."

Italy nodded, but he looked young and scared as Germany listened to Canada's soft reply.

"If he dies, Veneziano will become the singular representative of Italy. It's the same with my brother and I, and, I assume, you and Prussia. However, it is never a good thing, to suddenly place such a burden on the other half…"

"He can't take both parts." Germany hissed. "He just can't."

"I know, Germany." Canada replied, a small sigh sounding through the speaker. "I'm trying my hardest, and you have to too. You need to take care of Italy."

"Of course I will." Germany snapped, and he saw Italy's eyes fly open from where they'd drooped. "I will always watch over him, Canada."

"Eh, Canada?" Italy gasped, jerking upright. "Does he know? Did he say if _fratello_ was-"

"Feli!" Germany gasped as Italy began coughing, curling in on himself. He heard Canada's voice fading as the phone dropped onto the sheets, soon getting lost as Germany pulled Italy to him, holding him close until the smaller nation regained control of his breathing. He sighed in relief as Italy said in a rather shaky voice.

"I-I'm okay…Ludwig, _m-mi di_-"

"Don't apologize." Germany said sternly, but his face held only relief and fear for the man he loved. Italy just smiled sadly, a shadow of its usual bright glee.

"O-okay…b-but really, what did M-Matt say?"

"He…." Germany was trying to figure out to shuffle around the truth, but one look in those amber eyes and he found himself giving in. "Your brother is alive, but in a bad condition. It's not certain whether or not he will survive."

"H-how…?" Italy managed, his normally tan face going white as a sheet. Germany bit his lip, lost for words. Finally, he muttered grimly.

"Russia."

He didn't need to say more-Italy gasped, his trembling starting up once again, only more violently.

"R-Russia h-h-hurt _fratello_…?" he stammered, and Germany nodded sombrely.

"_Ja_. Canada's taking care of him…" he suddenly remembered the phone he'd left on. He dug around in the sheets, keeping one arm tightly clasped around Italy. After finally retrieving it he sighed. "Sorry. We had a bit of an, ah, issue."

"I could hear that." Canada replied, sounding a bit harassed. "I was going to hang up anyways. Romano…well, he's not looking so good. I'm going to see if Lithuania or someone will help me."

"Alright. Be careful." Germany added grudgingly. Canada paused, and then said in a confused voice.

"Huh?"

"Be careful. For your damn brother's sake." Germany sighed, a flush going to his cheeks at his own caring. Italy was rubbing off on him. "He's been really worried about you, you know."

"I do." Canada sighed. "I'll let you knew if anything changes. 'Bye."

Germany didn't have a chance to reply as Canada hung up. He sighed mournfully, hand absentmindedly stroking Italy's hair. His trembling was slowly subsiding, and he had shut his eyes once again. It wasn't long before the younger nation drifted off again, leaving him in silence that was only broken by his lover's erratic breathing. He wasn't sure how long he sat here watching Italy breathe, but next thing he knew there was a snort from the doorway.

"He doesn't look so hot, _bruder_."

Germany looked up to see Prussia leaning on the doorframe, a pained smirk on his face. The German frowned.

"What are you doing up?"

"I just wanted to see what the commotion was. Besides," his grin broadened, "you can't keep the awesome Prussia down for long."

"Gilbert, you need to rest." Germany scolded, and Prussia just snorted, rolling his scarlet eyes.

"I don't want to. It's so boring, sitting in bed while the rest of you take on Russia."

"How did you..?" Germany frowned. "You've been awake this whole time, haven't you?"

"Ah shoot, you caught me." Prussia sighed. "Yeah, I have. I couldn't sleep, especially after hearing that scream…"

Germany didn't say anything, his gaze going back down to Italy. It was easy to see just how slim the odds were with Romano, looking at the pale face against him. He tightened his grip, pulling Italy closer to him protectively.

"What should I do?" He whispered, not looking up as he addressed his brother. He heard Prussia heave another sigh, taking slow steps across the room until he was at the bed. He sat behind his brother, his snowy head leaning onto the other nation's strong back.

"Hell if I know, _bruder_. But…damn it, I know this is cheesy as hell, but…you've gotta hold onto him, Lud. Because love is a hard mistress, and…augh, god damn it…."

Germany could hear the sadness in his brother's voice, and he knew why Prussia had chosen to sit behind him. His older brother probably didn't want him to see the painful emotions on his face-Prussia was like that. He wanted to always be the awesome older brother, the one who would always stay strong. But Germany knew that there were a lot of things that Prussia had been hurt by, even if he never spoke of them. Germany leaned his head back so that it was leaning onto his shorter brother's, sighing.

"I know. But if…if his brother dies…"

"He won't, Lud." Prussia assured him. "That Romano is one tough bastard. He won't go down without a fight. Besides, he would never do that to his brother, right?"

"Right." _And neither would you_…_right…? _Germany frowned, knowing that was what his brother had also intended to say, but couldn't. After all, admitting your feelings just wasn't awesome. Germany felt a sardonic smile make its way to his face. His brother hadn't changed, even after centuries, and somehow he'd always found that to be a sort of comfort. He sat there, lover on his chest and brother leaning on his back, until he heard the sound of rough snores from behind him. He couldn't stop a soft chuckle from escaping his mouth-Prussia really had worn himself out, even if he'd denied it. Knowing that if he moved he'd wake both men up, Germany just sat there, listening to the chorus of snores, and after a few minutes, joined in…

oOoOoOo

"Why, Matvey, this is a surprise!"

Canada didn't say anything, his violet eyes hard as he stared at the large man behind the desk-_France's_ desk.

"Where's Francis?" Canada asked, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice so as not to upset the Russian. He couldn't risk that, especially not if he wanted to get the violet-eyed man to agree to his plan. Russia just grinned eerily, shrugging.

"How should I know? You know how dear Francis is, da? He's probably off cavorting with women or performing some other debauchery, da?"

Canada frowned, but then smoothed it over with a neutral expression again.

"I suppose. I guess I can just ask you."

"Ask me what?" Russia asked, raising his pale eyebrows, but that only served to make Canada's heart beat double time. Russia scared him an incredible amount, but just as he was about to falter and turn away he remembered the laboured breaths and weak voice of Italy. He took a deep breath, steering himself for what he knew was likely to happen.

"I need to take Romano to a hospital, or he may not recover."

"Why should I care? He betrayed our alliance, da?"

"H-he was just protecting his brother." Canada swallowed, trying to wet his dry mouth and cursing his nervousness. There was no one else to step up for the older Italy brother, and if he didn't, the Italian would die. He would never let that happen, especially with the chance of him and his brother being in the same situation. Russia gazed at him coolly, a smile still lighting his pale lips

"Da, and by protecting his brother he betrayed us. Italy wasn't supposed to leave. I believe we made that perfectly clear, da?"

"Y-yes." Damn it, how could Russia's smile send such shivers down his spine? He wanted to turn tail and run, but he couldn't, and he was afraid. Russia didn't say anything for a long minute, and then he held out his hand.

"Hand over your phone."

"H-huh?" Canada's heart sped up-did Russia suspect something? Well, of course he suspected a little bit-he _was_ Russia-but did he know…? "O-of course."

Canada dug into his uniform pocket, drawing out the small silver device and handing it over. There was a long, tense silence, and then Russia suddenly threw the phone to the ground, causing Canada to jump as he brought his boot down and crushed it to pieces. When he looked back up, his smile was gone, and his purple eyes held unimaginable darkness.

"Very clever, Matvey-you may be able to erase your phone history, but did you really think I wouldn't notice you sneaking off to inform you dear brother of our plans?"

Canada felt himself beginning to tremble, now extremely frightened of the man before him, images of Romano's horrifying beating running through his mind. He was in trouble, big trouble, and for once his hero wasn't there to save him. He whimpered, watching Russia's malevolent purple eyes gazing into his own, and cursing his cowardly thought. He was so dependent on his brother, but America couldn't always be there to help him, and he knew that. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to meet Russia's gaze without the giving into the urge to turn and flee. After a tense moment, Russia finally broke their gazes, turning to face away from the smaller nation.

"You may go now, Matvey."

Canada nodded swiftly, relieved to finally be free from that cool gaze. The moment he got back to his room he shut the door and sank down to the floor, finally letting his emotions free. Tears welled in his eyes, and he buried his face in his arms.

"I'm sorry." He wept. "I'm sorry…"

oOoOoOo

"Mr. Jones, I would appreciate it if you would stop pacing."

America stopped, turning to glance at the woman behind the desk. The vice President was staring at him, looking tired and worn. There were deep bags under the blonde woman's eyes, and she looked older than her forty years. He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry, Ms Pederson, I'm just worried, ya know?"

"About your brother, I'm assuming." The woman sighed, crossing her fingers and resting her chin on them. "You don't have to stay here, Alfred. We have this situation under control now, and we're keeping a close eye out for any Russian planes"

"I know, but I need to make sure nothing bad happens to my precious country." America smiled sadly. "Because I'm the hero, right? That's what I'm supposed to do."

"But you also have to be a hero for others, Alfred." Pederson reminded him, her voice gentle. "Besides, I'd say Europe is in far more danger than we are, wouldn't you agree? Italy's already been bombed," America's face twitched, "And I'm fairly certain Germany or England are the next likely targets. You should be over there helping your friends instead of worrying yourself to death over here."

"I…" America sighed, staring out the window that provided a beautiful view of his favourite city in the world. "Alright. Thank you, Ms Pederson."

The blonde woman just smiled, making a shooing motion with her hand. He walked out of her office in a few long strides, the door shutting behind him. He had tried to hide his anxiety, but she had come to know her country's avatar quite well over the past five years, and she knew how much he was longing to get back to his friends. She shook her head, resting he head back onto he chin.

"Idiot…"

oOoOoOo

Romano opened his eyes, groaning weakly. He felt like he'd been steamrolled, and his head was throbbing painfully. He heard a soft gasp as he finally got his eyes to crack open enough to see, and a blurry figure moved into his line of vision.

"Oh, thank heavens! I-I thought he'd killed you!"

"L-Lith…ua…?" Romano couldn't finish the name as pain laced through his chest, harsh coughs ripping from his throat. God, everything fucking hurt. Lithuania placed his hand on the other nation's chest, his green eyes sad.

"I'm so glad you're alive. Your brother will be so happy to hear it."

"Prob'ly…knows…al'dy…" Romano said weakly, and Lithuania looked confused for a moment. But then his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"That's right, the connection! Alfred's mentioned it before…well, at least that means we don't have to sneak around to call him."

"Wha…mean…?" Romano asked in his broken voice, and Lithuania sighed mournfully.

"Russia found out about Canada's phone calls to his brother, and he broke his phone."

"Wha…'bout…Can…da..?" Of course, he wasn't worried-well, maybe just a little, but…it was only because the damn maple syrup loving bastard had taken care of him! That was definitely it.

"He's fine." Lithuania assured him. "He just went to the storage room to get some more bandages. R-Russia…he hit you p-pretty hard, a-and…w-we thought…"

"Vene…ziano…h-how….bad…bombs…?" Romano tried to get his point across, but it was hard to get the words to come out. His chest was constricted and he had a feeling there were a few broken ribs. Lithuania frowned, shaking his head.

"The northern half of your country wasn't hit as hard, but there were still several bombs dropped. After you defied him, R-Russia had them concentrate on the lower half."

"Bas…tard…" Romano grumbled-no wonder it was taking so long for him to heal. Usually, the smaller wounds would have already have been almost gone by now, but if his country was in a bad spot…and that, of course, meant that his brother was suffering too. He hoped that Germany was taking good care of Veneziano, because he already felt awful enough without the guilt of causing his brother pain just because he couldn't control his anger against Russia. He growled, regretting it instantly as pain shot through him. Lithuania jumped, his green eyes wide in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"'F course…'m not…" Romano said, trying to sound annoyed as usual, but the pain in his voice made it come out as a whine. Lithuania frowned and said in a quiet voice.

"You should get some more rest so you can get better."

Romano was about to protest when the door swung open. Both nations started, turning to look (or, in Romano's case, attempting to), and they both sighed in relief as Canada shuffled in. The dirty blonde looked exhausted, and there were bags under his violet-blue eyes. When he saw the other nations he smiled wearily and shut the door behind him.

"Ah, Romano, I'm so glad to see you awake. Your brother was very worried."

"You…to him….talked..?" Damn the pain, making him talk like a two year old. Thankfully, Canada knew what he meant to say, and he nodded slowly as he began to rebandage Romano's wounds.

"Well, not to him directly, but I could hear him in the background." Canada decided not to mention just how much pain the younger Italy brother seemed to be in. "I called Germany's phone, knowing your brother never picks up his, and I told him what had happened. He told Italy as well."

Romano frowned, wincing-his brother was probably worrying himself silly over him, especially if Canada had told him what happened. But at least it was confirmed that his brother wasn't alone, and the though made Romano smile a bit as he drifted off again.

_He's not alone anymore…_

oOoOoOo


	13. 12: Forever and Ever

A/N: Another chapter! Thanks for all the favourites and adding me to your story alerts, that means so much to me! :D I give you virtual hugs and candy!

I'm at 30,000 words already :'D

Also, America is a potty mouth. But heck, this thing is M, so why do I even need to warn you?

A teeny bit of fluff…but I think there just needed to be some by now. Let me know if I screw it up (I'm so worried I will! DX)

Please review!

oOoOoOo

"_Follow your common sense,  
You cannot hide yourself behind a fairy tale forever and ever…  
Only by revealing the whole truth can we disclose  
The soul of this bulwark, forever and ever;  
Forever and ever…"_

oOoOoOo

When Germany woke up his back was stiff. He had fallen asleep while upright, his brother still leaning on his back. However, when he looked down, Italy was gone. He frowned concernedly, standing up swiftly and causing his brother to fell onto the bed. The albino jolted awake, blinking his red eyes sleepily.

"Nn, West? What's going on?"

"Italy woke up and walked off somewhere." Germany replied shortly, opening the door and making his way downstairs only to find the Italian man in the kitchen, a steaming pot on the stove in front of him. He didn't appear to notice Germany standing in the doorway until the taller nation heaved a deep sigh of relief. Italy jumped, turning around with a smile on his face.

"Ludwig, you woke up! Ve, I was just going to make us some pasta for lunch!"

"What are you doing up, Feliciano?" Germany asked, walking forward until he was right in front of the other nation. Italy just laughed, shrugging as he pouted.

"It's boring, having to sleep all day. Besides, I'm feeling much better!"

"Really?" Germany frowned, scrutinizing his friend. Italy's face was still far paler than its normal light olive, and despite his assurances he looked exhausted. However, Germany noted that his smile looked mostly real, and he raised his pale eyebrows. "Did something happen?"

"_Fratello_ woke up a few hours ago." Italy informed him, and the smile wavered a bit. "I could feel it, but he wasn't awake for very long. But, ve, at least I know he's okay, right?"

"So you've been awake for a few hours already?" Germany frowned deeply, putting his hand on Italy's forehead. Thankfully, Italy didn't feel any warmer than usual. Italy just nodded, smiling.

"I cleaned up my house a bit. After all, without _fratello_ or me here for a week it was sure to be dusty."

"You shouldn't be awake, let alone cleaning and making food." Germany sighed, and Italy stuck his lip out again.

"But Ludwig, I'm feeling much better now. Besides," he added with a mischievous grin. "If you cooked it would just be icky wurst again."

"Oi!"

Italy just giggled, turning back just as the water was about to boil over. He turned down the heat, and the soft smile on his face was enough to stop Germany from berating him again. He sighed in defeat, resigning himself to simply standing to the side and watching the smaller man stirred the sauce he'd made. When it was done he reached up to grab the strainer from on top of his refrigerator, but when he winced he found another pair of hands reaching over his to pluck it up easily. Italy looked back to see Germany bringing it over to the sink shaking his head.

"I knew you were still hurting. Just…let me help you, alright?"

"B-but Ludwig…" Italy whined, and Germany glared at him, though it was a friendly one.

"I'll handle this, alright? You can get the plates down if you want to do something."

"Okay!" Italy brightened again, opening the cupboard and taking out three plates, and then he shot Germany a questioning glance. "I didn't see anyone else. Did they go home?"

"_Ja_." Germany replied, frowning. "They have their countries to protect."

"Ve, but you stayed here," Italy said, smiling sadly, "Even though they could have bombed you again."

Germany felt a blush rising to his cheeks, and as he poured the noodles into the strainer he muttered.

"Well, someone had to take care of you and _bruder_."

"Yeah. But ne, Ludwig, I appreciated it." He moved behind Germany and threw his arms around his broad chest, nuzzling his face in the fabric of his shirt. "Because you didn't leave me."

"Idiot." Germany sighed, but there was a smile on his face as he whispered gruffly. "I won't leave you, Feli. I'll never leave you."

Italy just smiled happily, keeping his arms around Germany and his face buried in his shirt. He didn't want to ever move from that position, but they both jumped at the sound of a snort from the doorway.

"Aw, how cute, little bro is being sappy."

"Sh-shut up!" Germany said, his blush deepening as Prussia laughed his characteristic laugh, shaking his head.

"You're too cute sometimes, West. So, kid, is that pasta I see?"

"_Si_!" Italy finally let go of Germany, skipping over to the stove. Germany sighed, running a hand through his hair once before picking up the strainer full of noodles and bringing it to the table. Italy had already brought over the sauce and had it resting on a towel so it didn't burn his red and white checked cloth. He served the meal with a smile on his face, but both Beilschmidt brothers could see how much pain the simple action was causing him. Germany finally put his hand over Italy's, stalling its movement.

"Let me handle this, Feli. You just sit down, alright?"

Italy pouted, about to protest, but Germany just gave him a stern glance. Italy sat down, but he was glaring childishly at the blue-eyed man now pouring sauce over their noodles.

"I was handling it fine."

"You're injured." Germany retorted, but there wasn't any real anger in his voice-instead, it was laced with concern. "And you both are going right back to your bed after lunch. Don't give me that look, Feli-you know you need it."

Italy stuck out his tongue like a small child, but then dug into his pasta with gusto. It had been days since he'd eaten his favourite food, after all, and he was starving. Prussia followed his example, sighing contentedly.

"Damn, kid, you sure can make a good meal."

"_Grazie_, Prussia." Italy smiled, and Prussia rolled his scarlet eyes.

"Just call me Gil, okay? It's so much more awesome."

"Ve, okay, Gil!" Italy said cheerfully, and Prussia laughed.

"That's better. Oi, West, have you heard anything from the others?" Prussia asked, turning to his brother, a frown now on his face. Germany shook his head, twirling some of the spaghetti onto his fork.

"Not since Elizabeta called to inform me of the planes being driven away from Italy. But the others are busy with preparations, I'm sure."

"It's my fault." Italy whispered suddenly, and both brothers turned to gape at him as he continued. "Isn't it? B-because I ran away, th-they're so mad, th-they're going to hurt all of y-you, b-b-because of me…"

"It's not your fault, Feli." Germany said, grabbing Italy's hand under the table as tears coursed down from amber eyes. Prussia nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, besides, if you'd stayed behind you woulda been hurt more. Look at what happened to your brother."

"Gilbert." Germany warned as Italy began to cry even harder.

"H-he only got hurt because of m-me, so I could e-e-escape."

"_Ja_, and he wouldn't like to see you crying over it." Germany said, squeezing Italy's hand comfortingly. "You know how he yells at you when you cry."

"Ve, like Ludwig." Italy laughed, scrubbing his eyes on his sleeve. "You don't like it when I cry, right? You always used to scold me, during the war…"

"You did? Way to be a jerk, bro." Prussia laughed, and Germany shot him an icy glare before turning back to Italy with a heavy sigh.

"I wasn't trying to be mean to you, Feliciano. It's just…look, I don't like seeing you cry."

"Ve? Why?"

"Because…" Germany's face was as red as one of Spain's famous tomatoes right then. "Because…damn it, I just hate seeing you sad, alright?"

Italy laughed suddenly, a refreshing sound to both Beilschmidt brothers.

"You really did care about me!"

"O-of course I did!" Germany replied, flustered. Prussia just laughed, patting his brother's shoulder heftily despite his wounds. Italy giggled, a light blush on his cheeks as he squeezed Germany's hand one more time before he let go and stood up from his chair. Germany automatically frowned and said.

"What are you doing?"

"Ve, I was just going to clean up lunch-"

"Sit back down." Germany sighed, standing up and gently shoving Italy back to his seat.

"B-but Ludwig…" Italy protested, and Prussia snorted.

"Just sit down, kid-Lud can be real stubborn when he wants to be."

Italy just sighed, pouting again, but he let Germany take their dishes and clean them off in the sink. When he was done (which was after several minutes, due to his perfectionist cleaning style), he forced the other two men upstairs. Both protested loudly, but Germany just glared at them.

"You both need to rest!"

"If you had it your way, I'd sleep the rest of my awesome life away!" Prussia complained. "You're such a worry-wart, West."

"Ve, I agree with Gil!"

"Shut up, both of you! This is not up for debate!"

"Wanna try me?" Prussia grinned, and Germany glared at him.

"Go to your room, Gilbert."

"Make me."

"Fine."

Italy giggled as Germany threw his brother over his shoulder, the smaller man squirming and protesting loudly. Italy continued to chuckle as the sounds of bickering faded. He heard a shout as Prussia was dropped onto his bed unceremoniously. Germany emerged from the room, his hair slightly mussed, which caused Italy to laugh more. When Germany saw him wince the blonde crossed over to him swiftly, scooping him up in his arms.

"I-I was going by myself, Ludwig!" Italy squeaked, and Germany just shook his head, bringing the Italian to the guest room they had been in before. After settling Italy down on the bed he went over and grabbed his phone, checking for new messages. Seeing none, he sighed-sure, the others were busy, but couldn't they at least shoot him a message to say they were alright? No that he was worried-of course not-but still…

As if reading his mind, his phone rang. He flipped it open, and a loud voice burst out of it immediately.

"Germany, you need to go back to your home as soon as you can!"

"England? What-?"

"France and Russia are invading Japan, Germany and England!" The latter nation was now nearly screaming in his panic. "Alfred just got a call from his boss, and there are planes heading there as well. They're trying to hit all of us at once!"

"But what about Italy?" Germany snapped, gaze flicking to the specified nation. Italy was staring at him with wide amber eyes. England sighed.

"Hungary and Austria are still watching his border, and I haven't gotten a call from either of them. Get your arse home, Germany, before they cause too much damage."

"But I can't leave-!"

"Ve, it's fine." Italy said in a quiet but entirely serious voice. "If you have to go back to protect your country you should, Ludwig. It's our job to protect our people, isn't it?"

"But Feli…" Germany felt torn-he wanted to go back and protect his citizens and his country but at the same time he didn't want to leave Italy. _Especially after just promising not to…Gott, I'm such a jerk._ Italy, however, just kept staring at him earnestly, and England's voice continued to sound in his ear.

"Get a move on, you sodding-BLOODY HELL!"

"What happened? England?" Germany barked, hearing a crash and some muffled noise, and then England replied in a short tone.

"I have to go-Alfred's been-"

The line cut off, and Germany swore vehemently, shutting it and shoving it into his pocket. He stood in place for a moment, not sure what to do. He felt a deep anger penetrating his rational thoughts, mostly directed at France and Russia. He was absorbed in murderous thoughts when a whispery voice broke through them.

"You should go."

He looked at Italy, who was now sitting with his legs curled up, his chin resting on them. He was looking down at the sheets, not meeting the Germany's astonished gaze.

"What?"

"You should go…y-you're people n-need you right now, a-a-and…I'll be f-fine, Ludwig…"

"Feli…" Germany sighed, shaking his head. "I won't leave you."

"Y-you have to!" Italy insisted, still not meeting the other's gaze. "I-I don't want your people to get h-hurt because of me."

"But Feli…"

"_Per favore_, Ludwig…" Italy begged, and Germany saw a few drops falling onto the pale pink sheets. He went over, cupping Italy's face and forcing the younger nation to look into his eyes.

"I will go, Feliciano, but I swear…I swear, I will come back and soon as I can. You trust me, right?"

Italy nodded, tears still splashing down his cheeks. Germany gave into his desire and began kissing them away, feeling Italy stiffen at first, but then melt into the kind touch. When their lips met, it seemed inevitable, as if it was simply meant to be. Germany let his eyes slide shut, allowing him to simply soak in the moment, the feeling of Italy's soft, effeminate lips against his. Italy let him overpower him, as he knew the smaller man would-it was expected, and also welcome. He felt Italy give a little hum of please as he ran a hand though his soft hair, lighting on the curl that defied gravity. Italy felt Germany smile against his mouth, and then gasped as he stroked it.

"L-Ludwig!"

"Always wondered what this was for." Germany chuckled, and he felt Italy's face grow warm. He opened his eyes and drew away a bit, not denying that he felt a bit pleased at the deep blush across Italy's cheekbones. Italy whined as he laughed deep in his throat.

"Ludwig! What are you-oh!"

Germany tweaked the auburn curl, causing Italy to squirm. He smiled, capturing those soft lips again. Deny as he might, he had been wanting to do this for years, deep down. But he had always restrained himself, thinking that he couldn't love the other nation, it wasn't possible. But oh, it was. After several pleasant minutes he finally forced himself to pull away, and he saw Italy didn't look too happy about it either.

"Feli…I have to go."

"I know."

"I don't want to."

"I know."

"But I have to."

"I know."

"Feli…" Germany sighed, letting his head rest on the smaller shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Ludwig." Italy whispered, but Germany could hear how sad he was. "You have to go save your people."

Germany nodded, lifting his head and placing one last kiss on Italy's lips before standing up reluctantly. He pulled on the rest of his uniform and slicked back his hair, trying not to think about Italy's sad brown eyes when he'd pulled away. Oh, how he'd wanted to continue…but their allies were in trouble, and he couldn't let them suffer because of his feelings. He put on his hat, finally turning to look at Italy again. The younger nation hadn't moved, and appeared to have been following Germany's movements the entire time. Germany sighed, walking over again and kissing Italy's cheek.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay…" Italy smiled miserably. "You'll make sure the others are okay, won't you?"

"Of course I will." Germany smiled back. "Good bye, Feli."

"_Ciao_." Italy whispered, and he watched as Germany turned his back to him and left, waving over his shoulder before closing the door, leaving Italy once again alone…

oOoOoOo

"Alfred! Alfred Fucking Jones, don't you DARE pass out on me, you git!"

England knelt on the floor, the larger man on his lap. America had seemed fine mere moments before, and England knew what that meant-the American troops hadn't been able to stop the bombs. He swore, tilting America's head so the drooping blue eyes were looking directly into England's. America gave a small cough and whispered.

"They got…D.C…they knew…aw, fuck, I'm gonna…die, aren't I…Arthur?"

"What? Of course you're not going to die!" England felt his voice rising in panic as he laughed nervously. "You're the bloody United States of America, you won't go down like this! D-Don't joke like that, Alfred, it's just a few b-bombs."

"Artie's crying…yup, I'm gonna die…" America laughed, which caused blood to spray from his mouth. "Fucking Russia…had to hit my fucking capital…"

"Plenty of nations survive their capitals being bombed." England said, trying to stop the tears from coming, but he was so afraid. He had _never_ seen America like this-even during his civil war, things hadn't gotten that bad. It was a harrowing sight-the self-proclaimed hero, now being held in the arms of the man who raised him and coughing up blood. England swallowed as America's blue eyes tried fluttering shut again. "Don't close your eyes, Alfred!"

"'M sorry, Artie…it just kinda hurts…ya know…?"

"Of course I know, you git, and I also know that you can't close your eyes. You have to stay with me, alright?"

"'Kay…I'll try…" America's words were getting more slurred and unintelligible, but England could see the effort he was putting forth to keep himself awake, and it made the Brit proud. He grabbed America's hand, reminding him of times in the now distant past, when America would look up at him with shining blue eyes full of wonder, and give him that big, goofy grin…he shook his head, gritting his teeth.

"Come on, Al-we need to get you to a hospital."

"Don' like…'spitals…." America grumbled, grimacing. "'sides, not much they could do…"

"There are doctors who know what we are, Alfred." England reminded him, placing one arm around America's shoulders and the other under his legs. He braced himself, pushing to standing slowly. He groaned with the strain-he'd forgotten just how much bigger America had gotten. England chuckled sadly. "Look at you, Al, all grown up. I remember when I could carry you around like it was nothing."

"Yer jus' an ol' fart…" America mumbled, but England saw the corners of his mouth turning up. "'S nice…having you carry me…'gain…"

"If it weren't for the situation, I might agree with you. Git." England added as an afterthought, walking with slow, unsteady footsteps. America was much heavier than him, and the fact that he was practically a dead weight at that point didn't help matters. England gritted his teeth, watching as America's eyes began to flutter shut again. He ground his teeth, forcing his legs to move faster.

_Don't you dare die on me…Alfred…_

oOoOoOo

Canada had been talking with Lithuania when the first bomb hit Washington D.C., and he felt it. He swayed where he stood, and the brunette barely caught him before he crashed to the ground. Lithuania's eyes were wide.

"Canada? What's going on?"

"Alfred…his capital has been hit-no, destroyed." Canada's blue-violet yes widened in horror. "It's been decimated. That's not the only city, either…oh, _mon dieu_…"

His eyes fluttered shut, and Lithuania gasped, nearly dropping the other nation. He glanced up and down the hallway, trying to find someone to help, and finally he spotted someone moving slowly up the stairs. He cleared his throat to get the other nation's attention, and was surprised to be met with blue eyes and a rather unshaven face.

"Toris? _Que-_?" France's eyes widened when he spotted the comatose nation in Lithuania's grasp, and he moved much faster. "Mathieu! Oh, _mon dieu_, what 'appened?"

"You should know." Lithuania's voice held an angriness to it-he had gotten fairly close to America when he had lived with him, and he knew that America was still young and vulnerable. It would only take a few well-placed bombs, and the country would collapse.

"I didn't tell Russia to bomb them, Toris." France said sincerely, looking horrified. "In fact, I was just down there telling Russia to stop, but he refuses. He says…_Dieu_, I've lost control of this, Toris." His voice turned into a whisper as he stared at the young nation he'd helped rear. "I don't want to hurt them, and I didn't want to hurt Veneziano either, you know that."

"But you started all this, France." Lithuania said softly. "You have to take some responsibility for your actions."

"_Je sais." _France whispered, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair off Canada's face. "I think…I think I'm going to try ending it."

"Really?" Lithuania blinked rapidly, surprised, and France nodded solemnly.

"I'm going to go over to England tonight. Maybe…maybe we can talk about this…"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Francis."

They both jumped, and Lithuania began shivering as Russia loped into view. France cleared his throat, sighing.

"We're going to destroy them if we keep this up, Ivan."

"And how is that a problem?" Russia asked with an air of false innocence, "We all agreed that America was a threat, da? Then we should get rid of him."

"But there are billions of people who live in America!" Lithuania said in a horrified whisper, whimpering as Russia turned his cool gaze to him.

"What is your point, Toris?"

"N-nothing…" Lithuania stammered, but he could feel his stomach curdling with horror. Russia was planning on bombing until he succeeded in killing America, and there was no one strong enough to stand up to him. With one if the other super powers gone, it would be even harder, and Russia knew that. Lithuania shuddered-Russia had to have been building up forces for years to be able to take down America like he was. He could see France's eyes widen as he came to the same conclusion, and then he scowled.

"You have to stop this now, Ivan! I never agreed to killing a nation."

"But if we don't, who's to say he won't retaliate, da? Though he'd be an even bigger idiot to try anything in his state…" Russia chuckled darkly, and France felt a shiver of fear going through him at the frightening aura surrounding the tall nation. He glanced back down as Canada whimpered in his sleep, and he felt anger replacing the fear. But when he glanced up at Russia, he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop the terrifying man before him. And then he realized something that made the fear return full force…

_No one can stop him now…._

OoOoOo

A/N: What the "F" in America's name REALLY stands for! XD Haha, just kidding…But it does seem to fit, somehow…

Je sais- I know (in French)


	14. 13: A Wish

A/N: Russia's a big jerk ;A;

Yay for Spring Break! :D I can write more chapters!

Also, thanks to everyone for the great reviews! I can't tell you how much they mean to me! ;u; Thanks so very very much!

oOoOoOo

"_If I had a tale that I could tell you,  
I'd tell a tale sure to make you smile…  
If I had a wish that I could wish for you,  
I'd make a wish for sunshine all the while…"_

oOoOoOo

"Alfred!"

America opened his eyes slowly to find that the world was a giant blur. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, when he heard a chuckle.

"Oh, right, you'll be needing these…"

Something slid onto his face, and America was relieved to see the face above him coming into focus. He smiled, trying to laugh, but it hurt too much. He saw England frown, thick eyebrows drawing together.

"Don't talk, Alfred. You were…well, you were hit pretty hard, and…argh…" England shut his eyes, drawing back out of America's line of sight. America laughed ignoring the pain it caused, and reached out weakly.

"Don't worry about me, Iggy. I'm a hero, heroes don't die."

"Of course you won't die, you git. You…you'll be fine." England felt his eyes stinging with tears as he watched America reaching out limply. He grabbed the larger hand, and America turned to smile at him.

"Yup! So stop looking so grumpy, Iggy, okay?"

"Don't call me that." England grumbled half-heartedly and when America winced he asked. "Are you alright? Should I call the doctor back in here?"

"I'm fine, Iggy." America replied, and England frowned deeply.

"You don't sound alright. I think I'll go get the doc-"

He was surprised to feel America's grip on his hand tighten, and his former colony's blue eyes were wide behind his spectacles. England raised a thick eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't wanna Doctor." America mumbled, still gripping England's hand like a lifeline. "Just stay here…please?"

England hesitated, surprised by the sudden admission, but after several seconds he nodded slowly.

"Alright, I'll stay here." He sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling wearily. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

"Yes I did." America pouted, his eyes half-lidded. "I'm my own nation now."

"Then you don't need me eh?" England laughed softly as America's eyes widened again.

"No, don't leave!"

England just laughed, shaking his head and ruffling America's sandy hair.

"I wouldn't leave, you git. I'll be right here, alright? Just shut your eyes and get some rest."

"But I don't wanna sleep, Iggy…"

"Oi, what did I say about calling me that?" England muttered, watching as America's eyes drooped again. "Go to sleep, Al. You're going to need it, so you can recover."

"You really think I'm gonna get better, Artie?" America whispered and England was surprised at the pessimism in his voice. "You think I'm gonna survive?"

"You're the hero, right? Where would we be without our hero to step in and save our arses, right?" England laughed sombrely. "You said so yourself, heroes don't die."

"Yeah…" America sighed, coughing as it strained his sore chest. "Hurts like hell, though…"

"I know it does." England said softly, squeezing America's hand once before letting go. "Just close your eyes, alright? I'll get the nurse to give something to lessen the pain."

"I don't need it…" America mumbled, but his eyes had finally drifted all the way shut again. England waited to stand up until his breath evened out again. He slipped the glasses from America's pale face, setting them back on the nightstand gently. He stared at the other nation, feeling sadness overwhelming him again. He'd never seen America so depressed-the young nation was always overly optimistic, believing he could do anything, that he was the hero would save everyone else. England sighed, muttering to himself.

"Now who's supposed to save you, Alfred?"

He sat there staring for several minutes until the sound of his phone going off startled him. He flipped it over quickly so that the sound wouldn't wake America up, not bothering to look at the caller id. But when he heard the voice on the other end of the line, he wished he had.

"_Bonjour_, Arthur."

"What the hell are you calling for, frog?" England snapped softly, turning and stalking out of the room so he wouldn't disturb America when the yelling happened like it always did. He was surprised to hear France heave a sigh, his voice softening rather than rising.

"I know you don't want to hear from me, but I'm calling on behalf of _petit _Mathieu."

"Because you wankers bombed America, eh?" England scowled angrily. "Do you realize what you've done to him?"

"_Ce n'est pas moi." _

"Huh?" England was confused by the sad tone of France's voice. However, he just shook his head and snapped. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"I didn't tell Russia to bomb anyone. I even tried to stop him, Arthur…I know you don't believe me, but please, for Mathieu's sake, at least tell me how _Amérique_ is doing."

"…" England sighed. "Fine. But I'm not doing this for you frog. I'm only doing it because of his brother."

"_Je sais._" France whispered. "_Merci_, Arthur. So, how is he?"

"It's awful." England choked, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "He's in a lot of pain, Francis. H-he keeps saying that…that he's going to die."

"That's utterly preposterous." France snorted. "He's a large nation, he won't go down that easily."

"Russia already got his capital, Francis." England snapped. "He's probably hitting the other major cities as we speak. It doesn't look good, and it's all your fault!"

"My fault? You're the one who declared war-"

"Because you wouldn't quit it!" England retorted. "You were invading my lands and demanding funds when you knew bloody well I was struggling as well!"

"I wasn't-oh, Mathieu, you've awoken!" France's voice immediately softened, England was annoyed to note. "Just lie down, _mon petit_, and let _Papa_ take care of you!"

The line cut off abruptly, and England scowled, shutting his phone with a snap.

" Bastard frog, doesn't even have the courtesy to say goodbye. Bastard…"

"England!"

He jumped, turning to see Germany walking down the hallway, looking very peeved but there was also a hint of worry and exhaustion in his blue eyes. England sighed, waving airily.

"Hey, Germany."

"What the hell is going on?" Germany snapped. "What happened to America?"

"He was bombed." England took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. "Badly. They hit his capital first, and are making their way westward."

"_Scheisse._" Germany swore, glancing at the door behind England. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad." England admitted, cursing his body as it started trembling. "He's still young, Germany. H-he's never even been bombed before."

"But he is a world super power, England." Germany reminded the other blonde nation. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Besides, his troops have been deployed, haven't they?"

"Of course they have." England snapped, biting his lip. "But they haven't been able to stand against Russia's attack. Apparently, he has a lot more troops than we'd previously thought."

"I gathered that." Germany grumbled, slicking his hair back nervously. "To be able to attack all of our countries at once…so far, it's only been ground forces in Germany."

"Same here." England nodded, frowning. "I've heard the same from Japan and China."

"Russia's attacking all of them as well?" Germany's blue eyes widened in horror. "How is he doing that?"

"He has some troops from the Baltics, as well as some of the Central and South American nations. He frightened them into giving him support, according to Canada's report earlier in the war. But still, I could have never imagined him being this strong…" England trailed off, shaking his head despondently. Germany raised his eyebrows, swearing under his breath. He looked ready to take off again in a heartbeat, and England knew why. He sighed again. "You want to go back to Italy, I'm assuming."

Germany just nodded, sighing as well.

"He's still hurt, England, and he looked so sad when I left…but he told me to go, so that I could help my people."

"Sounds like Italy." England frowned, bowing his head. "I heard from France. He apparently hasn't had anything to do with these attacks. He even told me that he tried opposing Russia."

"You believe him?"

"I…" England paused. Did he believe France? True, they were enemies, but the other nation had sounded so upset by what Russia was doing. The forced voice he used when Canada woke up was almost painful to hear, no matter what England tried to convince himself otherwise. "I think I do, even though I shouldn't trust that wine loving bastard at all. But he was taking care of Canada, and he sounded genuinely concerned for Alfred…"

"Have you heard anything about Romano?" Germany asked, but England just shook his head.

"He didn't mention it. Why do you ask?"

"Feliciano was worried." Germany replied, and England could see his frown deepen as he thought about the man he'd left behind with only his brother to guard him. Besides, Prussia was hurt too-even worse, in fact, but with Prussia you could never really tell. England snorted as he thought off the albino, and Germany shot him an annoyed look. England cleared his throat.

"I'll let you know if I hear anything else. Anyway, I have some paperwork I need to fill out back at my office, so I'll see you around. Take care."

Germany let England walk past him, but England swore he heard the German mutter.

"Be careful."

England paused, then smiled and chuckled softly.

"You too."

oOoOoOo

"Liz, wait!"

The brunette sighed, glancing over her shoulder as the dark haired man ran down the stairs, his cowlick bouncing with each step. She put her hands on her hips, turning and glaring at him.

"I have to go, Roderich. Gilbert and Italy are alone, and someone has to take care of them."

"But let me go with you, at least." Austria argued, finally halting right in front of his ex-wife. "Please, Elizabeta-it's too dangerous."

"You always say that yet who's the one who always saves you, eh?" Hungary laughed softly. "I'll be fine, _kedves._"

"But Liz…" Austria sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark hair. "Russia's already invading our lands. He might go after you."

"I can protect myself." Hungary told him, smiling wearily and grabbing one of his effeminate hands in hers. "It's not too far to Italy, Roderich, so I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Russia had a vast network, Liz. If he finds you…" he didn't need to finish- Russia's violence from the second World War was still a vivid memory for the female nation. She shuddered, but still smiled sadly.

"He won't, _kedves_. I promise."

He stared at her for a moment, his indigo eyes sombre, and then he shocked her by putting his arms around her and drawing her to his chest. She blinked her green eyes, rather surprised, but when she felt him shaking slightly she sighed, letting herself relax into the familiar hold. She would never admit it, but she missed being with him. She and Austria had always been so good together, and she loved him so much, even now. He was always worried about her, and that made her feel so happy in a way. She sighed again, shutting her eyes.

"I have to go, Roderich."

"Please don't." Austria whispered against her hair, and Hungary frowned, drawing away slightly so that she could look him in the eyes. When she saw how sad they were she gave into the urge she'd been trying to deny and locked their lips gently. Austria's eyes widened for a moment, then closed. It only lasted for a minute, but it brought back so many memories, of better days, happier times….Hungary finally drew back again, smiling sadly.

"I'll be back before you know it, alright?"

"Fine." She could have sworn there was a pout gracing his lips. "Promise you'll be careful."

"Of course." Hungary grinned, tweaking his nose affectionately. "Aren't I always?"

Austria didn't reply, but she could see a smirk forming. She laughed, placing one last kiss on his lips before she turned to leave. She got all the way to the door before she heard him whisper.

"I love you, Liz. I always have."

"I know." Hungary replied, glancing back over her shoulder with a sad smile. "I love you too, Roderich, _kedves_. No matter what happens, I will always love you."

oOoOoOo

Prussia was in Italy's kitchen making dinner when Hungary arrived the next day. Italy himself was in his room, where he'd remained since Germany's departure. Prussia sighed, hoping that his brother would return soon, because it was horrible, having to see Italy's sad amber eyes every time he went to check on him. He helped the younger nation change his bandages, and Italy did the same for him. Italy spent most of his time sleeping, and Prussia tried to do the same, but someone had to make the meals, and with Italy in his depressed state…

"Hello, is anyone home? The door was open, so I let myself in…"

He jumped, almost dropping the pan of noodles he was holding at Hungary's call. He set it down, sighing in an annoyed manner before yelling.

"Oi, I'm in the kitchen!"

"Gilbert?" there was the sound of swift footsteps and then Hungary poked her head around the doorway. "What are you doing up, you idiot?"

"What the hell does it seem like I'm doing?" Prussia snorted, turning back to the food he'd been making. Hungary frowned, coming up behind him.

"Weren't you shot less than a week ago?"

"Ha ha, the awesome me doesn't take that long to recover, Lizzy."

"Don't call me that, Gilbert." She snapped, whacking him on the head with the frying pan he'd been planning to use for the sauce. "You should be resting!"

"I don't want to sleep anymore, damn it!" Prussia retorted, rubbing his head. "Besides, should you really be hitting an injured man?"

"You're the one claiming you're well enough to be up and about." Hungary replied, glaring at him. "Where's Italy?"

"Upstairs moping 'cause West had to leave." Prussia replied, shrugging. "Though he's probably sleeping. He usually is."

"He always does that when he's hurt." Hungary nodded sagely, watching as Prussia began cutting tomatoes for the sauce. As she stared at him, she noticed the way his hands were shaking, and the tense set of his shoulders. She sighed, walking over and plucking the knife from his hand and shoving him aside gently. "Let me handle this, alright?"

"I was doing fine." Prussia grumbled, but she swore there was a hint of relief in his voice as he sat down in one of the chairs. She frowned, watching him for a moment before turning to the counter again.

"You really should be resting if you're still hurting, Gilbert."

"And I believe I said I was fine, Lizzy."

"Do I need to hit you again?"

"You will anyway."

"Probably." Hungary laughed, shaking her head. "You never change, do you, Gilbert?"

"Why mess with awesomeness?" he replied cheekily, grinning, but his scarlet eyes were slowly drooping shut when she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Go back upstairs, Gilbert."

"I told you, I don't want to sleep anymore." He retorted drowsily, determinedly crossing his arms and sitting up straight. "All I've done for days is sleep. I'm fucking sick of it."

"Don't be crass." Hungary scolded, and she heard him snort.

"You sound like that tight-wad Roddy."

"He's not the only one who dislikes your use of profanity, Gilbert." She reminded him, putting the now chopped tomatoes in the pan. Prussia just rolled his eyes, deciding not to say anything. After a few minutes, Hungary was amused to hear his breath even out into loud snores. She laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned around and saw him still sitting with his arms crossed, snowy head dropped to his chest. She felt a sad smile making its way to her lips, and with a sigh she walked over and scooped him up. Thankfully, Prussia had always been rather small, and so it wasn't too difficult for her to carry him up the stairs to the guest room he'd been using. He grumbled a bit as she laid him down, but didn't wake up. She sighed, staring at him for a long moment as he snored on. She didn't move until she heard a noise in the room next door, and when she went over she saw Italy sitting up, rubbing his eyes wearily. When he saw her, however, he brightened.

"Ve, Elizabeta! When did you get here?"

"Not that long ago." She replied with a small smile. "How are you feeling, Italy?"

"Ve, I'm feeling much better!" He replied with a wide smile, but Hungary had a feeling it was just as fake as Prussia's assurances before. She sighed, but tried to keep up her smile.

"That's good to hear. Gilbert started some pasta, so if you wait a bit I'll finish up the sauce."

"I'll help you!" he chirped, springing out of the bed, and she jumped.

"Oh, no, I can do it myself! You really shouldn't be getting out of bed."

"I'm fine!" He replied lightly, grinning. "I've been sleeping for hours, Elizabeta, and I'm already feeling much better!"

"Are you sure?" Hungary offered as he scampered out of the room. Italy just laughed, nodding.

"Yep!"

Hungary sighed again, but followed him down the stairs and back into the kitchen. By the time she got down there, Italy was already stirring the tomatoes and pulling out various jars of spices. She stood in the doorway for a minute, watching as he sprinkled them in, occasionally stopping to taste it with his finger. She felt a maternal smile make its way to her face as she watched his mouth quirking to the side as he mused about whether or not to add more oregano. He looked so at home in his kitchen, an apron tied around his waist and a wooden spoon in hand. He began humming as he stirred, a warm look in his amber eyes. He didn't seem to be in much pain, but then again, it was hard to tell with him. Even Hungary, who had known him for centuries, had a hard time telling when he was hurt if he wanted to hide it. Thankfully, he was more likely to sit and cry when he got hurt, but it was more worrisome when he didn't. Most people wouldn't even notice at all…

"Ve, Elizabeta, I finished!"

She jumped in surprise, blinking rapidly. Italy was standing in front of her, holding up the pan of sauce he had been making. She laughed, ruffling his auburn hair affectionately.

"Smells good, Italy. How about I dish it up, alright?"

"Okay!" Italy said, putting the pan down on the table and sitting down. Hungary opened the cupboard, pulling out three plates and bringing them over to the table. As she began dishing up the noodles, however, she noticed the sad look on Italy's face. She frowned, cocking her head.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." Italy replied softly, bowing his head with a sad smile. "I was just remembering…ve, it's nothing."

"You miss him."

It wasn't a question. Italy twitched nervously, but after a minute he nodded, a light blush painting his cheeks.

"_Si_."

"That's understandable, Italy, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." Hungary smiled, patting his hand reassuringly. "You have every right to be worried about the person you love."

"B-but he doesn't like it when I worry." Italy said, and Hungary snorted derisively.

"Ludwig just isn't good at handle any kind of emotion other than anger, Italy. He's always been stuffy and uptight when others get emotional, but it's just because he doesn't know how to handle it, Italy, not because of you."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." Hungary ruffled his hair again. "Now, eat up, okay?"

Italy nodded, tucking into his pasta with gusto that caused Hungary to laugh again. It was always soothing, being around the Italian, and she wished she had more time to do so. But even before the war, she and Austria had been busy trying to keep afloat in the spiralling economy, and she knew the other nations had been doing the same, Italy included. Since Romano did most of the work (grumbling all the while, of course), Italy had been left alone. Hungary knew how much he hated being alone, and as she watched him eat she could see the lingering loneliness in his amber eyes, and she hated it. Hated seeing Italy sad, and worried, and lonely…she stood up quite suddenly, flinging her arms around his neck and almost causing him to choke on the food in his mouth.

"E-Elizabeta?"

"I'm sorry, Italy, honey. I'm sorry I've been so busy, and that I haven't visited you, and I'm sure the others would say the same."

"E-eh?" Italy blinked, rather confused by her sudden display of affection, and then, realizing what she meant, laughed nervously. "E-Elizabeta, really, I'm fine, I'm not lonely or anything."

"Don't lie, Veneziano." She sighed. "That only makes it worse, because it just shows how bad things have gotten…"

Italy didn't reply, not trusting his voice as tears built in his eyes. He allowed them to pour over, wetting Hungary's shirt, but the older woman didn't seem to mind. She just wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back with one hand, their food forgotten. Hungary let him cry, sadness and anger filling her heart as she watched his small shoulders tremble.

She had to do something about this.

oOoOoOo

Romano was awake once again, and Canada was as well. The soft spoken nation had brought him something to eat, and Romano could tell something was wrong by the way the other nation's hands shook when he set it down. He frowned, grumbling.

"What's up with you?"

"Ah, R-Romano, you're awake." Canada smiled weakly. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Like hell you are. Did that Russia bastard do something?"

"Ah, w-well…" Canada was debating just how much to tell Romano, knowing the other nation was in no condition to hear upsetting news but also that Romano hated being lied to. "R-Russia has been sending out troops to in-invade several of the others, including England, Germany, Japan, a-and Am-America…"

"Fuck." Romano swore, trying to sit up, but found it was impossible and only caused intense pain to run through him. He flopped back down with a groan, shutting his eyes. "Explains why you look like shit. Did they bomb him?"

Canada nodded morosely, blinking his blue-violet eyes wearily.

"Yesterday. They got his capital, a-and New York City was just hit this morning. According to Francis Alfred's holding up, b-but we don't know how he can…"

He was forced to pause as he voice choked up, and he sat down on the edge of Romano's bed before his trembling legs gave out. Romano frowned, trying to think of something to say but, damn it, he was never good at that kind of thing. He reached out and grabbed the other nation's hand weakly, causing Canada to squeak in shock not quite unlike Veneziano. Canada glanced down at him as the brunette chuckled to himself.

"Romano?"

"Ah, I just…" Romano scowled, turning to try and hide his tomato red face. "I know how you feel, I guess, and…argh, never mind…damn it…"

Canada smiled, squeezing Romano's hand gratefully.

"Thank you, Romano. I'm sure your brother is fine." He added, and Romano snorted.

"Of course he is. That idiot has people to protect, like the potato-sucking bastard."

"I'm sure you do too, Romano. What about Spain?" Canada said, and the blush returned full force.

"H-he wouldn't save me…that bastard's got too much to worry about, and he's probably sitting at home munching on churros, and…damn it…" Romano blinked, trying to keep the tears from falling from his hazel eyes as he grumbled. "I don't need him to save me."

"I'm sure you don't." Canada said softly, but there was a sad smile on his face. "But I did hear that he was going to London today."

"He is?" Romano's eyes widened, and Canada laughed quietly at the sudden light in them.

"Last I heard, yes. But he's being careful, especially since Russia already knows of his plans."

"Stupid tomato bastard, he's going to get himself killed doing stupid shit like this." Romano grumbled, and Canada noted the amount of profanity increasing as Romano tried to cover up his concern for both his brother and the man he likely loved. It was almost sweet, and he could see Romano's blush deepening to almost burgundy as Canada chuckled.

"You know, you could just admit that you're worried about them and save yourself the effort."

"I'm not worried!" Romano retorted, wincing when he instinctively began to sit up. "Damn it! Why does everything fucking hurt! I hate this! I fucking hate this..."

Romano finally burst into tears, mirroring his brother so many miles away, and he threw his arm over his eyes. Canada didn't say anything, but put a hand on Romano's shoulder. They sat like that for several minutes, until the dark haired nation finally quieted, his breath evening out into gentle snores. Canada watched the other nation sleep, and it didn't take long for him to follow suit.

oOoOoOo

Hungary was cleaning up the dishes when the phone rang. Italy had gone back to sleep, so she turned off the faucet and set down the plate she had been holding. It took her the first three rings to find the phone, finally locating it under some papers in Italy's office, and she picked it up.

"Hello, this is Elizabeta, may I ask who's calling?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. Hungary frowned, repeating her query.

"Hello, who is this?" More silence, and Hungary felt an unexplainable shiver run up her spine. "Hello? What do you wa-?"

She froze as a scream echoes through the speaker, and she almost dropped the phone right then and there, because it was so familiar, and yet she didn't want to believe it. But at the second, softer cry, her worst fears were confirmed, and she practically screams herself as she clutches the receiver so tight it hurts. Tears build in her green eyes as she cries out.

"Roderich, no!"

oOoOoOo

A/N: Dun dun dun…..

Again, I would love to have someone check my translations. I only know French decently, so any help would be appreciated :D

Ce n'est pas moi-It wasn't me (in French)

Je sais- I know (in French)

Kedves- Dear (in Hungarian)


	15. 14: One More Time

A/N: ;n;

I shouldn't enjoy writing fluff. I really shouldn't. =w=

For some reason, I have a hard time writing England ^^" I have no idea why

I love you all! You're reviews make me feel and warm and cliché inside QuQ

oOoOoOo

"_I've been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned t'wards the sun;  
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it will turn your head around…  
There's hours of time on the telephone line they'll talk about things to come;  
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground…_

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain,  
Seen sunny days that I thought would never end;  
Seen lonely times when I could not find a friend-  
But I always thought I'd see you one more time again…"

oOoOoOo

"Liz! Elizabeta, look at me!"

Hungary blinked her eyes several times, not knowing when she had slumped to the ground, but she was on her knees, the phone now emitting the drone of a dial tone. Prussia was kneeling in front of her, his red eyes wide and full of concern. She gasped, but it came out as more of a choked sob, and she threw herself into his arms. He started, but let his arms encircle her, ignoring the pain from his back as he whispered.

"What happened?"

"Th-they…Roderich…I d-don't know, b-but…I heard him scream, a-and…"

"What?" Prussia gasped as Hungary dissolved into broken sobs. He tightened his hold, grinding his teeth. "Why the hell would they do anything to him?"

"B-because we joined the war." Hungary sobbed, burying her face in his shirt, hands gripping the fabric like a lifeline. "And now…now Russia has him and..._Isten_, Gilbert, you kn-know what he'll do…"

"Yeah." Prussia shuddered violently at the memory-he remembered far too well the horrible things Russia enjoyed doing to other nations. Yes, _enjoyed_-that was the worst part of it, the constant smile, the chilling laugh…

"Wh-what should we do?" Hungary whispered, looking up at Prussia, olive eyes big and pleading. He sighed, shaking his head grudgingly.

"I don't know, Liz. But…fuck, I guess I'll think of something. I'll save him, okay?"

"But Gilbert…" Hungary bowed her head again, hands tightening around the fabric of his shirt. "What if he gets you too?"

"Ha, I'm too awesome for Russia to kill, Lizzy."

"…don't call me that." She muttered half-heartedly, but then her voice turned grim. "He's already hurt you once, Gilbert. If Ludwig and America hadn't saved you, you would have been d-dead already."

"Hey, if I've managed to kick around for this long, Liz, they ain't gonna kill me now." Prussia assured her, grinning. "Takes a hell of a lot to kill ol' Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Or a well-placed bullet." Hungary retorted, punching his chest angrily, but there were still tears in her eyes. "I don't want to lose you too!"

"You won't lose me." He assured her, resting his head atop hers. "I promise."

oOoOoOo

When England returned to the hospital, he was informed that America was okay to go home, and that there was little they could do for him other than supply a hefty amount of pain killers. That was why, when he walked back into America's room, the young nation looked much happier and had a broad smile on his face.

"Artie!"

"Alfred." England replied grimly, and America cocked his head in question.

"Did something happen? You look like shit." He added, and England snorted.

"Gee, good to know." England sighed, slumping into the chair by America's bed. "Austria was taken from his home. There was blood on the floor, a good amount, according to Prussia."

"Prussia? Should he even be up and about yet?" America asked, frowning, and England shook his head wearily.

"Of course he shouldn't, but he doesn't have much choice. Hungary is too upset to do much of anything, so she's staying with Italy for the time being. Germany is supplying troops to help protect the country, as well as pushing Russia back from his own land."

"Is it that bad?" America whispered, and England laughed darkly.

"He's invaded not only our countries, but he's got forces pouring into the Koreas, Vietnam, China, and Japan as well."

"Holy shit." America breathed, and his sky blue eyes were wide behind his glasses. England just nodded, bowing his head.

"He's so much stronger than we could ever have imagined. France…Francis isn't even a part of this anymore, at this point."

"Has he called again?" America asked, but England shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid he hasn't. But I'm sure your brother is fine."

"Sure he is. But I don't like the thought of Mattie in that house with that son of a bitch."

"He's not alone, though." England reminded him. "He has that frog, and the Baltics, and I'm pretty sure Romano is still there as well."

"But none of them can protect him." America pouted, but there was a sorrowful look in his eyes that surprised England. He sighed, shutting his eyes against an increasing headache.

"You don't always have to protect him, Alfred. There are others who would do it."

"But it's my job to keep him safe. I'm the hero-no, I'm his _brother_, so I have to save him."

"Alfred, just because you're getting out of here doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to run off and do something foolish."

"Who said I was?" America said innocently, but England knew better. The sadness in America's eyes had been replaced by cold, hard determination, and England could see the hero complex kicking in full force. England scowled, grabbing America by the shoulders and shaking him.

"You don't get it, do you? Russia's barking mad, Alfred, and if he catches you who knows what could happen."

"I know he's batshit crazy, Arthur, but am I supposed to just sit here as he hurts my brother and bombs my fucking country?" Tears were building up in America's eyes, reminding England of how much of a cry baby his former colony had always been. It made a warm, paternal feeling well in his heart, and he moved his arms around America to comfort him. America just let himself relax into the ever-familiar hold, blinking the tears from his eyes. England felt him sigh deeply, muttering. "Sorry for snapping at you, Artie."

"You don't have to apologize, you git." England chuckled sadly. "It's bloody creepy, having you be all nice and apologetic."

"Ah, so you like me better when I'm annoying?" America laughed, snuggling more into England's embrace. "You always complain about how loud I am, Artie."

"That's because you're obnoxious most of the time, Alfred." England replied, and America laughed.

"Yeah, I know. But you still love me, right?"

England flushed deep crimson, but he didn't loosen his grip on the other nation at all. He just sighed, resting his now red face back on the headboard.

"Of course."

"You admit it?" America said, poking his head back up to look England in the eyes. "You really mean that?"

England didn't say anything, but he looked back down at the blonde nation in his arms and smiled, the dark blush still on his cheeks. America giggled like a small child, burying his head back in England's jacket and humming appreciatively.

"Love you too, Artie."

oOoOoOo

"Feliciano!"

Italy jumped up at the sound of the familiar voice, and flung himself out of bed. He launched himself at the tall blonde, laughing as he placed a quick kiss on the other's lips.

"Ve, You're back!"

"_Ja_." Germany muttered, shutting his eyes and sighing in relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better!" Italy trilled, squeezing Germany tightly. "I've been sleeping lots, and being good!"

"That's good to hear." Germany grumbled, ruffling Italy's hair as the smaller nation finally let go of him. Italy beamed, nodding, but the smile slipped away in a second as he whispered.

"Have you heard anything about Austria?"

"_Nein_." Germany sighed, bowing his head. "_Bruder_ went over to his house earlier, but there was nothing to suggest who had taken him, or why."

"I-I think it was Russia. Elizabeta does too." Italy added, and Germany was surprised to see the mixture of anger and fear in Italy's eyes. But it made sense, in a way-Austria may have been strict, but he also been rather nice to Italy when the child nation was under his protection. Of course Italy would be upset that he was gone, and it explained the redness of his eyes. Germany sighed again, letting it rest on top of Italy's.

"It probably was him, Feli, but…well, if it was, there isn't much we can do."

"We aren't going to try saving him?"

"Of course we are, if we can. But you're staying out of everything, remember?" Germany added sternly, glaring down at the man he loved, and Italy pouted miserably.

"But Ludwig, I want to help…"

"I know you want to, but please, Feli, I just want to keep you safe." Germany cursed himself for the almost whining tone to his voice. He could almost hear Prussia's laughter is his head. "I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I'll be fine." Italy pouted, and Germany sighed wearily.

"Let's not argue about this, Feli, Please."

"_Mi dispiace_." Italy replied automatically, looking flustered, and Germany just shook his head.

"It's not your fault, Feli."

Italy was still pouting when Germany captured his lips in a deep kiss, and his amber eyes fluttered shut. He made a small humming noise, and Germany found he liked it. He chuckled, and then Italy's lips parted, permitting entrance, and Germany let his tongue slide in while at the same time tangling a gloved hand in Italy's auburn hair, and then tracing that one defiant curl. Italy squeaked, but pressed up against him even more. Germany chuckled again, noting how soft and feminine Italy's lips were. _It's pretty obvious who wears the pants in this relationship,_ he thought, and he drew away for a moment. Italy made a small noise of protest, pouting again.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I just wanted to look at you, Feli." Germany teased, running a finger over the curl as a blush covered his cheeks. He was acting so out of character, but he realized it was just what Italy did to him. Italy's lower lip jutted out, and Germany leaned forward to kiss him once again. He nibbled on the offending lip, and Italy squirmed pleasantly beneath him. Germany laughed softly, letting his mouth drift down to Italy's soft neck, and placed light kisses there as well. He didn't know where the sudden affection came from, but it didn't feel wrong in the slightest. At that moment it was just him, and Italy, and nothing else mattered, like it was meant to be.

And Germany liked it that way.

oOoOoOo

Spain was furious.

England was all but cowering behind his desk, having never seen the normally chipper man actually angry. But oh, he was, and it was little wonder why.

"Why haven't you done anything? There are innocent people being held captive over there!"

"I'm well aware of what's going on in Paris, Antonio." England retorted, but he kept his voice low so as not to anger the Spaniard even more. "But it would be foolish to just run in there and get ourselves killed. We have to plan something."

"Then plan it!" Spain cried, almost growling, but anguish leaked into his voice. "Russia's already hurt Lovino once, and he'll do it again in a heartbeat."

"Again, I am well aware of that." England sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But there isn't much we can do at the moment. We don't want anybody else going Prussia and sneaking into France's house, okay? That would only cause more problems."

"So we're just going to leave him there?"

"Look, I'm not exactly pleased about this either, but I don't bloody know what to tell you. We can't do anything." England let his head slump forward so it whacked the desk with a thud. "We can't rush into anything."

"We could do it, if we tried." Spain argued, and England snorted, voice muffled from the desktop.

"I don't need blind optimism right now, Antonio. Besides, you're not even a part of this war."

"I will be, if it means I can rescue Lovino." Spain said, and England lifted his head to gape at him.

"Are you mad? Why would you join when you know what's probably going to happen?"

"Because I love Lovino." Spain replied bluntly, and England rolled his eyes, resting his head back down on the desk.

"You're barking mad, Antonio. Look, we'll…we'll try to plan for something, but I can't guarantee anything, alright?"

"Fine." Spain sighed, fight gone out leaving him sad and worried. "Let me know."

"I will."

oOoOoOo

"Elizabeta?"

The brunette lifted her head slowly to see Germany in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest. His blue eyes, however, were full of concern and pity. Italy was behind him, clutching at his uniform and peering around his back. She smiled sadly, rubbing her eyes.

"_Szia_, Ludwig, Italy."

"H-how are you?" Italy asked timidly, and she tried to widen her smile, but without success.

"I'm doing alright, Italy."

"Have you heard anything from _bruder?_" Germany asked, and Hungary nodded.

"A few hours ago. He was just leaving R-Roderich's house, and he said he couldn't find anything other than a decent amount of b-b-blood…"

Italy padded over so that he could sit next to her on the couch, a frown on his face and his Amber eyes filling with tears.

"You can cry if you want to, you know."

"Thank you for the offer, Italy, but I think I'm all cried out." Hungary's smile faltered, but she ruffled his hair affectionately even as her body betrayed her words and tears built up in her eyes. She blinked them back immediately, hoping the other nation didn't see it, because he was already upset. When he saw how brave she was trying to be, Italy tried to blink away his tears as well, but with little success, and the sight of his attempt made Hungary laugh. She hugged him, smiling appreciatively, and Italy squeaked.

"Sorry, I-I was trying to be brave, and not a cry baby, b-but-"

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." Hungary said, laughing sadly. "We like you just the way you are."

"Ve." Was all Italy replied, but he let his head drop onto her shoulder. Realizing Germany was still standing in the doorway awkwardly the small Italian patted the empty space next to him. Germany raised a blonde eyebrow, but complied. Hungary laughed at his easy submission, and Germany blushed bright red. Italy just laughed loudly, snuggling back into Germany. They sat in awkward silence for several minutes until finally someone banged open the door.

"You people seriously need to learn to lock a door!" Prussia called out, stomping into the living room loudly. When he spotted Italy and Germany cuddling on the couch he grinned mischievously, but before he could say anything Germany cut over him.

"Don't start, _bruder_."

Prussia pouted childishly, but then a grim expression morphed his face and he turned his gaze to Hungary. She looked miserable, and lost, like a small child, and Prussia felt sympathy curling in his gut. He bowed his head, grumbling.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him. I tracked the trail as best I could, but they used a car, and…I'm sorry, Elizabeta."

"It's alright." She whispered sorrowfully. "You wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"I'll get him back for you. I said I'd save him, didn't I?"

"But Gilbert, it's too dangerous-"

"I'll be fine." Prussia interrupted, grinning incorrigibly. "I'm already mostly healed, so it's time for the awesome me to get back to kicking some Russian butt. I just came back here to see how everything was going."

"You're leaving again?" Germany said, and Italy knew him well enough to discern the fear in his voice. Prussia nodded, laughing nervously.

"Of course I am. What, you think I'd let you fight this by yourself, West? You've got the kid to look after, can't have you getting hurt, now can we? Just let me take care of it."

"Absolutely not." Germany stood up, hands fisting at his sides. "You aren't healed yet, I can tell. I can handle this by myself."

"Oh, sure you can, and then what? You'll get yourself killed like the dumbass you are, and we'll all have to mourn your loss, and you'll make little Veneziano cry again."

"G-Gilbert!" Italy squeaked, but Prussia's jibe had done its job-Germany had paled, and his gaze had gone back to the small man on the couch. Hungary frowned, glaring at Prussia.

"That was a low blow, Gilbert."

"Yeah, well I don't want my little _bruder_ fucking dying on me, alright?" Prussia snapped, scarlet eyes hard, but Hungary could see the fear lurking beneath them. Prussia was frightened, frightened that he would lose his brother, the only family he had. She immediately felt sorry for him, the former nation who was lucky to even be around. And then she realized that was his intention all along-he was older so it didn't matter if he died. Somehow, that infuriated her, and she shot up off the couch and smacked him across the face. The sharp sound rang throughout the room, and Italy squeaked again, clinging to Germany as she fumed.

"You promised not to get killed, Gilbert Beilschmidt! Are you going back on your promise now? Does it somehow not matter?"

"Oi, who said I was dying?" Prussia backed off, laughing nervously, but no one was fooled.

"You're going up against Russia, Gilbert! He kills without a thought, he fucking _laughs_, and you…you want to go up against _that_. You IDIOT!"

She hit him again, but the tears she had been holding back poured out full force, and Prussia just sighed, letting her fists bash against his chest.

"Liz, I don't have much choice. If he has Roderich, we have to get him back before anything happens. The fact that he took him without killing him means we may have some time."

"He's right." Germany said gruffly. "Russia likes to play…games with his victims."

"I know that." Hungary snapped, voice rough with tears. "But how can we get him back? We…we don't even know where he took him."

"I-if I may." Italy cleared his throat, lifting his head from Germany's shoulder. "He probably t-took him back to _Francia_'s house. That makes the most sense, right?"

"That's true." Germany frowned, running his hands through Italy's hair absentmindedly. "But I can't see France being alright with this. He doesn't approve of such tactics."

"I don't think he has much input anymore." Italy whispered, and Prussia nodded grimly.

"Francis would never agree to bombing America, or hurting Italy. That's just not him. No, it's all fucking Russia now."

"We can't go against him." Hungary whispered hoarsely, her hands falling to her side. "It would be suicide."

"But we have to try." Prussia reminded her, resting a hand on her shoulder and smiling sadly. "I have to go now, Liz. I'll come back-I did promise not to die, didn't I?"

"You…" Hungary took a deep breath and stepped back, nodding grimly. "Alright. Alright, you…you can go."

"Not that I needed your permission." Prussia said, laughing loudly as she hit him again. "See you later, West, Italy."

"I'll join you tomorrow." Germany told his brother, and Prussia shook his head.

"No you won't. You're going to stay here with the kid and snuggle and do naughty things to your heart's content."

"I'll see you tomorrow." Germany affirmed, glaring at his brother. Prussia just rolled his eyes dramatically and walked out, waving over his shoulder. All three sets of eyes watched him go, two full of tears. Germany just pulled Italy close to him again, sighing deeply. He had to make the most of his time with Italy, because soon he too would be going to fight, because he had to. As the representative of his nation, he had an obligation to fight, as did Hungary and Italy. The former sighed, and Germany felt it through his uniform. He echoed it, letting his hand continue to run through Italy's hair as he muttered.

"I'm sorry, Feli."

"Ve, it's alright." Italy smiled sadly. "I knew you'd have to leave again. I know how this goes."

"I know, but I'm still sorry." Germany said gruffly, and Italy just pecked his cheek.

"Don't be. Let's just make the most of the time you're here, 'kay?"

Germany smiled slightly, but he felt a heavy weight in his stomach as Italy dragged him off the couch and up the stairs. He glanced back just in time to see Hungary drop to the ground, her face buried in her skirts, the sound of her sobs echoing around them…

oOoOoOo

Spain was driving through Paris when it happened.

He was scouting out France's house and, having found it impenetrable, was making his way back out of the city toward his own country once more. He was driving fast, his emotions driving any sense from his mind, and he almost missed the man standing in the middle of the road. He screeched to a halt, finally stopping mere feet from the suited figure. He immediately scrambled out of the car and, being who he was, began apologizing profusely.

"Oh, _lo siento, señor_! I didn't see you there."

The man just gazed solemnly back, eyes peering through dark lenses making Spain feel rather uncomfortable. However, true to his nature, he just laughed nervously and said.

"I'll be getting back in my car, so if you wouldn't mind moving, I really do have to get home…"

"ждать!"

Spain stopped, if only because of the strange harshness of the Russian. He cocked his head, green eyes wide in confusion.

"¿_Perdón_?"

"Вы будете со мной." The suited man said, and Spain laughed anxiously.

"Ah, _lo siento_, I do not understand Russian, but I really do have to go…"

He turned to walk away, and he had almost made it back to his car when he heard the _whoosh_ of something moving through the air, and then the world went dark…

oOoOoOo

Isten-God (in Hungarian)

Szia- Hello (in Hungarian)

Lo siento-I'm sorry (in Spanish)


	16. 15: No Time to Say Goodbye

A/N: Very bad things happen in this chapter ;A; Thought I'd warn you ahead of time!

I keep writing chapters and forgetting to post them ^^" It's becoming a bad habit…

Anyway, going to Anime Detour in MN this weekend :D If anyone is going, I'll be there cosplaying Hungary!

Just so you know, I love all of you! QuQ Seriously, your reviews keep me going! Thanks so much!

oOoOoOo

"_Never thought this day would come so soon;  
We had no time to say goodbye…  
How can the world just carry on?  
I feel so lost when you are not at my side…"_

oOoOoOo

Italy woke up the next morning to find that Germany had already left. There was a note on top of the side table, along with a small cell phone.

"_Feli_-" It read, "_Got a call from Boss, had to leave, but you looked too adorable to wake up. I will return as soon as I can, but you can always reach me on my phone. You know the number. Love, Ludwig"_

"_P.S: The cell is for you. Please do not lose it."_

Italy laughed a bit at the last line-well, he did have a penchant for losing things-but he also felt sadness weighing down his heart. Germany was gone again, and who knew how long it would be this time. A day, a week, months…it was hard to know for certain, with a war going on. Italy leapt out of bed needing something, anything, to take his mind off the large, silent house. He hated the quiet, hated being alone, but he'd also promised to be good and stay in the house. He made his way to the kitchen, needing something to keep his mind of the abnormal silence of his house. Well, lasagna always made everything better, right?

When he go into the kitchen, he was rather surprised to find Hungary sitting at the small table, a mug of tea between her hands. She lifted her gaze from it when she heard his approach, a weary smile on her face.

"Good morning."

"Buon giorno, Elizabeta!" He replied, his faux cheer in place. "Ve, I thought you'd left already."

"I will be." She said sadly. "I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left, make sure you would be alright on your own. Well, that and…it's rather silly, but I just don't want the others at the meeting to see me like this. I need to be composed, you know?"

"Meeting? What meeting?" Italy cocked his head as he walked over to the cupboard, pulling out the pan he needed and placing it on the counter. Hungary sighed, taking a long sip from her steaming beverage before replying.

"England called a meeting to discuss our retaliation against Russia."

"Oh." Italy frowned, but didn't say anything else as he walked over to the pantry, digging around a bit to find the ingredients he needed. Hungary watched him in silence, but after a few minutes she looked back down at the amber liquid in her cup and sighed, whispering.

"Spain was taken."

The package of noodles dropped from Italy's numb fingers and landed on the floor in a crinkle of plastic that seemed more like the flapping of thousands of birds taking flight. He spun on his heel, brown eyes wide in horror.

"What?"

"Spain was kidnapped, sometime last night. His car was found on a side street in Paris, and several witnesses say he was taken by a man in a rather expensive suit."

Italy's mouth opened, but no sound emerged, and Hungary felt sympathy well in her heart as his hands began to tremble violently. She stood up and grabbed them, halting their jerky movement.

"I'm sorry, Italy, honey."

He didn't say anything, but she felt several soft splashes on her hands and didn't need to look at his face to know that he was crying. She immediately drew him into a hug, and whispered mournfully.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. I just…I thought it was best that you knew."

"N-no, I needed to know." Italy said, and his voice was almost haunted. The thought scared Hungary, and she clutched him tighter.

"I wish I could stay, honey, but I promised England I would be there, since Roderich has been…"

"I understand." Italy said when she choked off, pulling away from her with a sad smile on his face. "Tell Ludwig _grazie_ for me, will you?"

"I…of course." Hungary plastered a smile on her own face, watching as Italy turned around, picking up the package of noodles he had dropped before. "I'll let him know. _Viszlát_, Italy."

"_Ciao_." He replied, focusing on the package of noodles in his hands so she wouldn't see the tears that continued to stream down his face. When he finally heard her footsteps retreat down the hallway, and then the slamming of the front door, he let himself fall to his knees, face covered by shaking hands, the sounds of his harrowing sobs echoing through the silent house…

oOoOoOo

Spain awoke to darkness, and a sharp pain in his skull. He groaned softly, trying to move only to find that he was sitting on some kind of chair, arms and legs bound. He made another despairing noise, and this time he heard a muffled gasp and a groggy voice said.

"That better not be you, Toni, you bastard…"

"Lovi!" Spain couldn't contain his relief at hearing the familiar annoyance-tinged Italian accent, and he found himself smiling despite his bindings and lack of sight. "What's going on?"

"Hell if I know." Romano said, and Spain figured the other man was somewhere to his right, though his head as throbbing too much to be entirely certain. He sighed, trying to turn his head only to gasp softly at the pain it caused. He heard Romano suck in a breath, and his former charge asked. "Are you alright? Not that I care or anything…"

"I'm fine." Spain replied, chuckling a bit at the weak denial. "Think they whacked me over the head, though. Hurts a little."

"Oh, sure, because it's dark that somehow means I can't tell you're lying." Romano said sardonically, but Spain knew him well enough to note the fear in his voice. "What the fuck were you doing in Paris in the first place, you dumbass? Were you asking to be fucking caught or something?"

"I was trying to find you." Spain told him, and Romano started to reply only to be cut off by a quiet moan and then a whisper.

"R-Romano? 'S that you?"

"Obviously, and who the fuck are you?"

"Ah, C-Canada."

"Oh." Romano heaved a frustrated sigh. "Do you know what the hell is going on?"

"N-no." Canada replied, voice barely audible. "I-I was asleep, and when I w-woke up I was here. I can't move." He added in almost a whimper, and Romano growled.

"Che, fucking bastard, what the fuck is he planning?"

"Could you kindly shut your mouth, Romano? Your voice is very grating, not to mention your profane choice of words."

They were all surprised to hear the soft yet obviously irritated voice of Austria come from the far edge of the room. Romano was the first to recover from the shock and he snorted.

"When the hell did you get here?"

"I would hardly know, as I just woke up to your obnoxiously loud vocal tones just now."

"Speak normal, you aristocratic bastard." Romano grumbled, but he did lower his voice just a touch. "When did you join anyway?"

"Right before the bombings on your country." Austria replied, voice heavily laced with pain. "Liz and I helped drive the Russians from the skies. I'm assuming that's why I'm here."

"Oh." Romano made a noise that Spain knew as the closest to a whimper his lover would ever get. "Is that idiot _fratello _of mine alright?"

"I don't know. Elizabeta went over to visit him right before they got to me."

Romano didn't say anything, but Spain could hear his breath hitching as the young Italian tried to keep himself from crying (rather unsuccessfully, by the sound of it). He wished fervently that his hands weren't tied, so he could reach out and squeeze Romano's shoulders, tell him everything was going to be alright. But even Spain had lost his optimism, once faced with the bleak reality of what the war was coming to.

They would be lucky if they even made it out of that room alive.

oOoOoOo

"Arthur?"

England looked up from the papers he was reading, thick eyebrows raising when he saw the nation leaning on the doorway, sky-blue eyes sorrowful.

"Alfred, what are you doing out of bed? I told you to rest until the others arrived."

"I know." Alfred said, his voice still uncharacteristically soft and so un-America it frightened England. "But I couldn't sleep."

"I know the feeling." England grumbled, and it was true-the bags under his eyes had been increasing day by day from sleepless nights. He mostly spent them worrying about Canada, and the others in France, and also about America. He would constantly get out of bed, walk down the hall to the end room where America had been put upon his discharge from the hospital, and open the door a few inches just to make sure his former colony was alright. Alfred had even caught him a few times, but he'd always just smiled and patted the empty space at the edge of the mattress. The two of them would stay up together, chatting about old times and avoiding the present, of only for that moment. England didn't realize he was caught up in the memory until America chuckled.

"Looks like you need the sleep more than I do, Artie."

"Don't call me that, you git." England grumbled, rubbing the weariness from his eyes. "I'm not that tired."

"Oh, don't lie, Artie." America laughed again, making his way to stand by England's desk. "You've been working so much for this war. Well, I guess it was your fault it started, but you know what I think?"

"…what?" England said as America stared at him expectantly, blue eyes blinking behind his lenses.

"I think that it would have happened anyway. I always kinda suspected…well, I mean, you remember the Cold War?"

"Of course I do." England said shortly. "Just get on with it, Alfred."

"Well, afterward I tried to get along with Ivan, just because, you know, that crazy diplomacy crap. Anyway, I thought we were getting close, but he never told me anything about his troops building up, or alliances with any other country. But from the looks of it, his army has been prepared for this for a while now."

"So what you're saying is that he was just waiting for an opportunity to strike?"

"That's exactly it." America nodded, leaning on the desk top with a solemn frown on his face. "I don't think he's changed at all from before-he just wants to take over as many of us as he can, and he just needed a reason. You just gave him an excuse."

"Gee, Alfred, somehow that's not comforting at all." England grumbled, banging his head on the desk with a heavy sigh. "It's still my fault. If anything happens to them…damn!"

He was about to hit his head again, but America put his hand out and pushed England's head back up.

"Don't go hurting yourself, Iggy."

"What is with you and stupid nicknames?" England snapped softly, and America grinned.

"You're such an old man, Iggy."

"If you're just going to sit here and be an annoying git you should go back to your room and get some rest."

"I don't wanna." Alfred pouted, and England flicked his forehead, a tired smile on his face.

"I'm not giving you a choice, Alfred. The others will be arriving in a few hours, so just go rest until then."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Alfred…"

They glared at each other for a long moment until, finally, America pushed himself off the desk, still pouting childishly.

"Fine, I'll go back to bed."

"That's a good lad." England mumbled, looking back down at his work. He heard America hesitate for a moment, then surprised England by brushing his lips against his cheek. England looked back up only to find America walking out of the room as fast as his injured body would let him. He felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment, but all the same…

…it wasn't that bad.

oOoOoOo

"…so does anyone have anything else they would like to share before we begin planning?"

England swept his gaze over the other nations in the meeting room. America was there, as was Germany, his brother sitting next to him with a bored look on his face. Hungary was there as well, and Japan had come to represent the Asian nations, the rest of whom were too busy fending off Russia to come. Poland had shown up, which was a bit of a surprise, but no one questioned it when they noticed the anger in his green eyes. Other than that, no one else had come, but no one blamed them for it. After all, why drag themselves into the war if they didn't have to?

"Well, we totally have to, like, save the other nations." Poland said, arms crossed across his chest. England sighed, tapping his pen on the table and keeping his gaze down.

"It won't be that simple, Poland. Prussia already attempted that a couple of weeks ago, and the Russian mafia was after them in mere minutes. They've likely increased their guard now as well."

"We can't just leave them with that bastard." America said, and England could see his fists balling under the table. He sighed again, shaking his head wearily.

"I didn't say we were, Alfred. But we need to plan it out, make sure we can get them out of there without anyone catching us."

"Or we could launch an attack on the house." Germany supplied, and Prussia snorted.

"Sure, like Russia isn't expecting that."

"Do you have a better idea?"

England groaned as the two began to bicker about what to do, whether to sneak around or fight out in the open, and pretty soon the others had joined in, leaving only England and Japan silent. England let his head rest on the desk, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the noise of his fellow nations.

Then the phone rang.

All of them quieted in seconds, which was pretty rare, but then they saw England's face as he stared at the phone in front of him. America, who was closest, asked quietly.

"Who is it?"

England didn't reply, but instead picked up the receiver and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"_Ah, Arthur, hello there. You are in a meeting, da?"_

England froze, the phone almost sliding out of his now numb fingers. When he finally found his voice again, it came out as a harsh growl.

"What the fuck do you want, Ivan?"

There was a collective gasp from around the room, and he heard Russia chuckle darkly.

"_How about you put the phone on speaker, da? I would like the others to hear this."_

"Why the bloody hell should I do that?" England snapped, and Russia laughed again.

"_Because if you don't I think I'll start with dear little Matvey. You wouldn't want that, would you?"_

England gasped as he heard Canada make a noise in the background. He clutched the phone so his knuckles went white, saying in a harsh whisper.

"Don't touch him."

"_Just put it on speaker, da?_"

England complied reluctantly, setting down the receiver as Russia's laughter echoed from the speaker on the base. Poland froze, America turned white as a sheet, and Germany growled. Russia just laughed louder, greeting them.

"_Hello, everyone."_

"Ivan, you son of a bitch." America growled, and Russia just chuckled.

"_Ah, Alfred. Say hello to your brother, little Matvey_."

America choked as Canada's stutter sounded from the speaker, barely audible.

"_A-Al…he-he-hello…a-are you okay…?"_

"I should be asking you that, Mattie." America said, his voice a low growl but his blue eyes wide and teary. "Did that bastard hurt you?"

"_N-no, Al…I'm f-f-fine..."_

"_Aw, isn't that just sweet." _Russia said, though his voice portrayed the opposite. "_Now, how about the rest of you-don't you have anything to say to your dear friends?"_

"_Like hell I do!" _Romano's voice sounded, and it was Germany's turn to freeze in horror.

"_Lovi, don't say anything, you'll just make it worse!"_

"Antonio?" England whispered, and he heard Romano swear from the other end of the line.

"_See what you've done, you stupid bastard? Now they know you're here."_

"_I don't see what difference it makes."_

"_You idiot Spaniard!"_

Germany swore, thinking about Italy, alone in his house, probably worrying about all of them endlessly. At least he wasn't there, having to listen as flesh connected with flesh and Romano abruptly quieted.

"_Such a noisy brat. Ah, but there is one last guest whom we've yet to hear from. Come on, now don't be shy…"_

There was a sharp gasp and the sound of grinding teeth, but whoever it was didn't speak. Russia sighed, sounding annoyed, and they knew that the other nation wouldn't remain silent for long. None of them spoke, holding bated breaths as Russia growled and they heard his punch, and then the cry that followed. Most of them were still in the dark, but there were two nations specifically who knew exactly who the sharp cry belonged to. Prussia swore vehemently, immediately standing up to comfort the brunette next to him as Hungary's green eyes flew wide, a choked whisper escaping her mouth.

"Roderich…"

"What?" England gaped, and Russia laughed again.

"_Ah, Elizabeta, dear, I'm so glad to know you're there. That will make this much more…interesting."_

"I'm going to kill you." She snarled, standing up from her chair, body trembling with sudden anger. "Don't you dare touch him, Ivan Braginsky."

"_Oh? And what are you going to do, hm? After all, I do have dear Roderich's life in my hands, quite literally."_

"Fuck you, Ivan." Prussia growled, and Russia chuckled darkly.

"_Ah, Gilbert, how nice to hear your voice. It's been a long time, da?"_

"Again, fuck you." Prussia snapped. "What the fuck do you want with us?"

"_I think you know the answer to that, Gilbert._"

"Yeah, and I sure as hell am not becoming one with you."

"_Oh, so you don't care if I do this…?" _

Everyone in the room flinched as Austria's scream rang from the speaker, preceded by a sharp crack that caused Hungary to suck in a sharp breath. At the second snap of breaking bone, all the air left her lungs in a shrill scream.

"Stop it! _Kérem, Isten_…_abba, kérem…"_

She dissolved into broken sobs, repeating the words in her native tongue in her distress. She fell back into Prussia, who just wrapped his arms around her, jaw set and scarlet eyes ablaze with fury. He may not have always gotten along with the rather uptight Austria, but they had known each other for centuries, and in recent years it could have been said they had become friends. But even if they hadn't, hearing the other nation's whimpers and cries of agony were enough to drive anyone over the edge. Russia was just chuckling again, but thankfully had stopped after two.

"_That was a warning. Pity about those pretty fingers of his, but I thought it was appropriate."_

Hungary choked on a sob, and Prussia pulled her to his chest protectively, despite the fact that Russia was miles away. All of the nations in the room were staring at the phone, trying to think of a way to stop the Russian from causing any more damage, but they knew that he wouldn't accept anything short of total surrender, which none of them were too willing to give. England glanced over at the sobbing woman before turning to glare at the phone again.

"If you're trying to make a deal, Ivan, you're doing a piss poor job of it. If you want to talk, let's talk, but…please stop harming the other nations."

"_Ah, but you won't agree even if we talk, da? We've tried the whole talking thing in the last two wars, and we didn't get anywhere. Now, let's see, who's next…ah, how about you?"_

There was a soft "eep!" and America's chair flew back several feet as he stood up abruptly. His blue eyes were flashing with anger, and his voice was dangerous, a tone which none of them had heard in decades. America wasn't just angry-he was _furious._

"If you touch my brother, Ivan, I swear to fucking christ I will atomize your entire fucking country!"

"Alfred!" England hissed, but he knew better than to get near when his former colony was upset. After all, America was known for his amazing strength, and an _angry_ America…well, there were some things that were best left unremembered.

"_You would do that, America? You would kill millions of people, just for your own personal vendetta? That doesn't sound very heroic."_

America ground his teeth, but England could see him thinking about the implications of such actions. However, there was also that pure hatred, a fraternal bond that Russia was toying with, and he knew it full well. He sighed, rubbing his temples as his head pounded, wondering where on earth France was and why he was letting Russia even touch his precious _Matthieu. _

"Let's just calm down now, Ivan, and talk about this like reasonable gents, shall we?"

"_If your responses are anything like dear Gilbert's, then it will take some convincing, da?"_ Russia replied, his voice light but carrying that hint of darkness that showed he wasn't fooling around. When America spoke next it came out as a rushed cry, almost a whimper.

"Wait, please don't hurt him! I'll listen to your demands just please don't hurt my brother!"

"_Al!"_

"_Ah, so the mighty hero is the first to crumble." _Russia chuckled, and England scowled.

"Alfred is not joining you."

"_Oh? It sure sounds like he is."_

"Well he isn't."

"Don't speak for me!"

"_Al, y-you can't!"_

"_Yeah, you stupid bastard! I mean, if you give in to him he'll just kill him anyway or something like the piece of shit he is…"_

"_Lovi!"_

"I won't let him hurt you, Mattie, don't worry."

"_Oh, sure, like you could do anything."_

"Shut up, Romano."

"_Make me_."

"_I suggest all of you silence yourselves now before I'm forced to rip your tongues out." _

Russia's cool voice cut over their growing argument, effectively silencing them in seconds. After a long moment he spoke again, voice calm once more.

"_If you want your friends back alive, you all have to swear allegiance to Russia. I will accept no less."_

The seven nations in the room were silent, musing mournfully on the proposition. Germany didn't have to think for long, though.

"I refuse to join you."

"_Is that so?"_ Russia said quietly, and the blonde felt a shiver run up his spine. "_And why would that be?"_

"I refuse to join someone who condones such violent tactics. You've been trying to kill America, and now you're threatening the other nations as well. I cannot allow it."

"_Well this is a surprise-the mighty Germany, damning violence. Have you truly forgotten about what your own people did, in that last war?"_

Germany clenched his teeth, hissing angrily.

"I didn't have any part in that. That was entirely Hitler."

"_But you continued participating in the war anyway. You even dragged little Veneziano down with you."_

"I didn't drag him into anything." Germany growled. "And neither will you."

"_All I have to do is place on phone call, just the way we are now. Just a single whimper from his dear brother and little Italy would join me in a heartbeat."_

"_As if I'd let you, you bastard!"_

Germany was frozen, Russia's words sinking in and numbing his mind. Prussia shot him a sympathetic look, whispering as softly as he could.

"West, maybe we should-"

"_Nein_."

"He's right, Ludwig." Hungary whispered hoarsely, but Germany shook his head determinedly.

"I won't join him, and neither will any of you. We can't give in to him…"

…_even if we want to…_

…_need to…_

"_I'm sorry to hear that. You know what this means, da?"_

Germany gritted his teeth, a low growl emitting from his mouth, but he didn't answer. He had never felt so helpless, knowing that they couldn't join Russia, yet if they didn't…he could feel six pairs of eyes on him, and he could see all of them filled with the same conflicting emotions he felt in his heart. As nations they couldn't join the largest nation, but as people they couldn't let him senselessly their friends and relatives because of their own selfish wishes. Just because they didn't want to join Russia…but on the other hand, letting _Russia_ of all people control that much of the world was just asking for trouble, and would eventually bring the entire world down. They couldn't let that happen…but just then a loud screech emitted from the phone's speaker, and Russia's voice cut in over it.

"_I gave you a chance, but you chose the hard path. You can just listen to his cries and reap what you sowed, da?"_

Hungary let out a pained sob as Austria shrieked loud enough to cause a crackle from the device, slumping in Prussia's grasp. The albino had clenched his jaw, trying to remain stoic but pretty much failing. No one was speaking-they couldn't have even if they tried. America looked about ready to jump and attack the phone at the first sign of injury to his brother, and England was glaring at the phone with a mixture of horror and fury. Russia spoke occasionally; his voice just barely audible over Austria's pained moans and screams of agony.

"_Do you hear that, Roderich? Your friends don't care about you anymore, they won't even speak up to save you. What pathetic nations, da? Choosing themselves over a friend…what selfish idiots they are."_

"…_don't blame them…"_

Everyone froze at the sound of the hoarse whisper, almost inaudible. Even Russia stopped his beating, and they could hear the scowl in his words.

"_And what do you mean by that?"_

"_I don't blame any of them…I would have done the same…in their place…" _Austria panted, his breathing ragged. "_I would rather face a thousand years of pain…then let them join a bastard like you…"_

Hungary's breath hitched, and she could feel Prussia's doing the same at the honest declaration. Russia growled loudly, sounding inhuman and feral, and there was a loud crash and several sick thuds from the other end of the line as the Russian yelled.

"_I will teach you to talk back to me, Roderich Edelstein, do you hear me? I'm going to beat you until you scream for mercy!"_

Austria made no response other than more sharp cries, getting louder each time, and they could now clearly hear the sound of pipe connecting with flesh, and the occasional crack as bones snapped, and Russia was babbling in his mother language, sounding like the madman he was as he lashed out at the other nation. It continued for several minutes, none of the other nations in the room with Russia daring to even weep or whimper. After what seemed like hours there was one last piercing cry, and a sudden silence. Everyone held their breath, not wanting to think on what the absence of noise meant, until Russia laughed softly and said.

"_Oops."_

oOoOoOo

A/N: Oh Austria ;A;

Anybody who speaks Hungarian, it would be great if you help me with my phrases and stuff ('cause even though I cosplay her I have no idea how to speak the language ^^")

Viszlát-Bye (in Hungarian)

Isten- God (in Hungarian)

Kérem-Please (in Hungarian)

Abba- Stop it (in Hungarian)


	17. 16: What Would it be Without You?

A/N: Sorry for the delay on the last chapter ^^" I was getting ready for a convention, so I was super busy

I seriously love you guys! ;u; Thanks for your support (and the compliments that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside)!

Sooo went to my first anime convention OuO let's just say that Hetalia fans are the BEST PEOPLE TO EVER WALK THIS EARTH! YOU'RE ALL AS AWESOME AS PRUSSIA!

A bit of USUK in here, but I couldn't resist =w=

Also, don't forget to keep guessing songs! I want to write something!

oOoOoOo

"_I am finding out that maybe I was wrong,  
That I've fallen down and I can't do this alone;_

Stay with me, this is what I need, please?

Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you;  
We could sing our own but what would it be without you?"

oOoOoOo

Silence.

No one spoke, or even dared to breath, for a long moment after Russia's quiet statement. Because they knew what happened-Hungary's snow white face and Prussia's wide red eyes told them everything. They felt it, too-a minute or so later, but they felt it. A sudden absence, even from miles away, and they knew what it meant.

But no one wanted to believe it.

Hungary was the first to make a sound, and it came out as a strangled sob as her knees gave out, a whimper escaping her mouth as her eyes slid shut.

"_Nem, kérem…nem lehet…nem, _Roderich…"

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

Prussia was furious, and though his arms were around Hungary his entire body was trembling with uncontrollable fury. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to teleport to France and beat the living daylights out of Russia, and Germany had a feeling that, given the chance, his brother would. Hell, he was tempted to as well. It was taboo to kill a nation, and now Austria had been…

"_It was an accident."_ Russia said calmly, and that seemed to send Prussia over the edge.

"THE FUCK IT WAS! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, IVAN!"

"_I highly doubt you really could, but if you insist on coming over here to try I won't stop you. I did always like fighting you."_

"STOP BEING SO FUCKING CLAM ABOUT THIS! YOU KILLED A NATION!" Prussia choked, finally slumping to the floor as his knees gave out as well. "You killed him…"

"_It was an accident, as I already stated. He should have known better, da?"_

"Gilbert!" Germany said sharply as Prussia opened his mouth to speak again. The last thing they needed was an upset and furious Prussia to mess things up any more than they already had. All because they had decided to save themselves, Austria was dead, and they knew that there would be more. How many lives would it take for them to crumble?

"_Arr__ê__tez!"_

England gasped at the sound of the faint voice, and it took him a moment to realize who it was. America, however, knew it in a second, and he pleaded.

"Mattie, don't say anything or he'll kill you too!"

"_I won't kill him. Yet." _Russia replied, and they could hear the smirk in his cold voice. "_But I would be more concerned about yourself, Alfred."_

"What the fuck are you talking about?" America growled, and Russia just chuckled.

"_You'll find out soon enough, da? Sadly, I must go clean up the small mess I made, but don't worry-you'll hear from me again, one way or another."_

"DON'T FUCKING HANG UP!"

But despite Prussia's loud yell a click sounded and then the drone of the dial tone. England slammed his fist down on the phone, effectively silencing it and breaking it at the same time. He didn't realize that he was shaking until America put a hand on his arm, causing the former empire to look up into lapis eyes.

"Arthur, we have to do something about this."

"You don't think I know that?" England grumbled, glancing behind America at the albino nation still slumped on the floor, Hungary wrapped in his arms as she sobbed uncontrollably. His voice softened, coming out a barely audible whisper. "But what can we do, Alfred? We're powerless…"

"We're never powerless." America said firmly, smiling weakly. "Heroes are never weak, right? They just dash off and save the people heroically, using their awesome superpowers and stuff…"

"Alfred…" England's emerald eyes widened as he realized what America was insinuating, and suddenly it was his hands gripping America's muscular arms, voice raising in pitch. "Alfred, no! You can't do that, it's what he wants!"

"Yeah, and he also wants to hurt my brother, Arthur."

"And he'll kill you too in a heartbeat! Are you that bloody _thick_?" England snapped, trying to keep his anger spurned by worry under control, but failing. Germany shot him a look, clearly suggesting he keep the rambunctious American under control, and England glared back as if to say _like that's ever been possible._ But he could also see an anxiousness in Germany's blue eyes, the way they flicked to door as if he wanted to just get up and leave, but couldn't. England sighed, about to say something, when Germany's phone rang from his pocket, and he pulled it out so fast England almost couldn't see it.

"Feliciano, what's wrong?"

"_I just wanted to check on you." _Italy's voice could be heard even from down the table, and Hungary lifted her head at the sound of his frantic voice. "_I kept feeling…ve, are you okay?"_

"Of course I am." Germany responded briskly, trying to keep the sheer relief from hearing his lover's voice out of his own, but he knew Italy heard it when the other man chuckled.

"_Ve, you were worried about me, weren't you?"_

"Of course I was. Didn't you fee-" Germany cut himself off, realizing that Italy probably hadn't noticed Austria's presence vanishing with his own worries and the remaining pain from the previous bombings. He almost felt relieved, but also suddenly dreading having to tell the bright young nation himself. However, he suddenly heard a soft sigh, and then Italy said in a quiet whisper.

"_Who was it_?"

"Feliciano…" Germany hesitated, not wanting to say it, but finally he whispers. "Austria. He…Russia beat him to death."

Everyone could hear Italy's choked gasp, and then a soft thump as he dropped to the ground.

"_Perché?"_ he sobbed, and Germany could clearly picture his amber eyes filling with tears, some escaping down pink cheeks. He sighed, trying to soothe Italy as best he can.

"I don't know, Feli, but…Russia's nuts, completely crazy. You have to stay away from him no matter what, alright?"

"_S-sure."_ Italy replied, voice choked with tears. "_B-but Ludwig…why h-him? H-how could he…Dio, p-perché?"_

"Go to him."

Germany turned to see England gazing at him, green eyes sombre as Italy dissolved into tears on the other end of the line. He blinked rapidly in surprise.

"What?"

"Go to Italy. We can…take care of things here."

"But…" Germany frowned, seeing the serious expression on England's face. "Are you sure? I really should stay here and help-"

"Just go to him, West." Prussia muttered, glancing down at the still weeping woman in his arms. "He needs you right now."

"But I shouldn't leave, not with the current situation." Germany argued weakly, but he was almost twitching in his anticipation to leave and go back to Venice, to comfort Italy. The other nation was sniffling on the other end of the line, asking.

"_What's going on? Ludwig?"_

Germany opened his mouth, but for some reason he found himself hesitating to reply. England, however, raised his voice slightly so that Italy could hear him.

"He's going to be there as soon as he can, Italy, so just hang tight for now."

"_Ve, Ludwig is coming back?"_ The hopeful tone in Italy's voice was unmistakeable, and it made up Germany's mind for him.

"_Ja_, I am. I will be there in a few hours, alright?"

"_Va bene!"_ Italy chirped in reply, his voice light but they could still hear the scratch of tears in it. "_Arrivederci!"_

The line clicked off, and Germany immediately stood up, grabbing his papers and shoving them into his bag. He glanced over at his brother, but Prussia just rolled his red eyes.

"Just go, Lud. We'll be fine."

Germany could hear the undertone that refuted his brother's statement, but at the same time he knew he had a rather upset lover to comfort, and still had several hours worth of a plane ride to make it through.

"I'll see you around." He grumbled, and then exited the meeting room, trying to block the sounds of Hungary's choked sobs and their cause from his mind…

oOoOoOo

_It was dark._

_He had always hated the dark. It made him feel lonely, and everyone knew that the dark hid monsters, and ghosts, and killers…_

_That was only part of the problem, though. _

_Because in the dark he could hear voices, whispers, hisses, and they were saying such awful things…he whimpered and tried to cover his ears, but he couldn't, and he was afraid. He tried to talk, but his mouth wouldn't open. All he could do is sit, and listen as they whispered their harsh words in his mind…_

"…_useless…"_

"…_why would he even want you…?"_

"…_just do it…."_

"…_pull the trigger…"_

"…_kill him…"_

"…_he betrayed you…"_

"…_never loved you…"_

"…_kill him…"_

"…_kill…" _

He screamed, shooting up in his bed, and it took him several seconds to realize that this phone was going off. He picked it up with trembling hands, trying to remember exactly what he was so frightened about, and flipped it open.

"_P-Pronto."_

"_Hallo, Feliciano. I'm outside, but your door is locked."_

"O-oh, right, I forgot about that." Italy laughed nervously-it was an odd occurrence for him to lock his door even when he left the house, but he had been so terrified after hearing what happened to Austria… "I-I'll come down and unlock it, then."

"Did something happen?" Germany asked as Italy was about to shut the phone. Italy just laughed a bit and said.

"No, nothing happened. I'll be right down."

He heard Germany sigh as he shut the phone and tossed it onto his bed. He scrambled into a pair of pants (after all, Germany had always complained about his tendency to wear nothing to bed) and made his way downstairs. The second he opened the door Germany pulled him into a crushing hug, sighing into Italy's auburn hair.

"I'm sorry." He muttered. "We tried to stop it, but…Russia's become too dangerous, Feli."

"B-but _fratello_…he's still there!" Italy sounded frantic and Germany ran a hand through his hair to calm him down, sighing again.

"I know, Feli. We're trying to work out a plan to rescue those nations still with him, but it will be very difficult..."

"I want to help." Italy begged, but Germany shook his head firmly.

"Absolutely not."

"B-but Ludw-"

"_Nein!_" Germany said, and Italy looked up at his harsh tone, causing him to lower his voice. "I'm only trying to protect you, Feli. Russia…he's dangerous, and he won't hesitate to kill you. He's even gotten past America's defenses, which means he got past the strongest military in the modern world. You…you wouldn't stand a chance, Feliciano, and I don't want him to get anywhere near you again."

"B-but I can do something, I h-have to, because he-he'll kill them…_Dio_, he's already killed…a-and…" Italy broke down again, letting his head fall to Germany's chest. He was the perfect height, Germany realized- eight centimetres shorter, leaving him the perfect height to curl under Germany's chin. Germany tightened his embrace, leaning his head on the other's, remembering Italy often mumbling about the gap in their heights that made it so that he had to lean down to kiss him. Personally, he didn't see what was wrong with that, but it seemed like a big deal to Italy. He sighed again, rubbing the spot between Italy's shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry, Feli…I wish we could have stopped him."

"Wh-why him? He-he was so n-nice, really, a-a-and…" Italy was stuttering so much he was almost incomprehensible, and Germany hushed him softly.

"I don't think anyone knows what's going on in that bastard's head anymore, Feliciano."

"Wh-what about the o-others? Were th-they a-a-alright?"

"Well, other than being tied up, I believe so." Germany lied, and he knew Italy could tell but chose to remain silent. It was probably best that way. "Anyway, shall we go upstairs? Actually, have you eaten anything yet today?"

Italy hesitated, seeming to think on it, and then shook his head slowly. Germany sighed, ruffling Italy's hair and trying to smile.

"Idiot. You should at least remember to feed yourself when I'm not around."

"I tried making something." Italy whispered, and Germany could feel his mouth moving through the fabric of his jacket. "But I couldn't eat it…I tried, b-but…"

"How about if I make you something. Would you like that?"

Italy seemed to consider it for a moment, but then shook his head, sighing faintly.

"I don't think I could eat right now, actually."

Germany frowned in concern, but nodded.

"Alright, then-let's get you upstairs. Up you go!"

Italy squeaked as Germany's arms suddenly scooped under his legs and arms, lifting him up like a bride. He squirmed a bit and said.

"L-Ludwig, what're you doing?"

"Carrying you upstairs." Germany replied bluntly, but somehow he found his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Do you object?"

"N-no." Italy replied, and Germany knew it was true considering the smaller man was now snuggling into his chest and humming contentedly. He chuckled, and Italy flushed.

"You're so adorable sometimes, Feli."

Italy squeaked again, burying his red face into Germany's uniform as they finally walked into his room. Instead of setting him down, however, Germany simply sat down on the bed with Italy in his lap, keeping his strong arms circled around him. He sighed deeply, letting his head fall back down onto the other nation's. After several minutes of nothing but the sound of their soft breaths, Italy finally whispered sadly.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Feli." Germany admitted in a gruff voice, trying to cover the fear he knew would penetrate his voice even if he didn't want it to. Because he was afraid of Russia, so afraid, but more than that he was afraid for the trembling man in his arms. Russia had already hurt Italy once, and he would do it again in a heartbeat because he had lost all sense of right and wrong, it seemed. None of them were safe, and Germany didn't realize that he too had begun to shake until Italy looked up at him, amber eyes large and shimmering with tears.

"L-Ludwig…"

"Hush, Feli, it's alright." Germany lied, but Italy just shook his head, fingers tightening on the green jacket.

"I-it isn't, Ludwig…w-w-what if he h-hurts _fratello_ ne-next? Wh-what if we c-can't save a-a-anyone?"

"We will, Feli. I promise, we will get your brother back safe and sound."

"Promise?" Italy whispered, and Germany could see the raw anxiety and now hope in Italy's brown eyes. He swallowed and nodded, tucking Italy's head to his chest so his lover wouldn't have to witness the drops beginning to trickle down his cheeks.

"I promise."

oOoOoOo

"Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"

England had his hands on his hips like a lecturing parent and, frankly, he felt like one. The taller nation in front of him glared right back, and England couldn't help but notice how much like a petulant child America looked. His baby blues were narrowed almost comically, and his lower lip jutted out in a pout.

"To Washington. It _is_ still my capitol, Iggy."

"Don't call me that, you sodding, idiotic, American _git_!" England snapped, his worry showing itself as it usually did as annoyance. "I know where you're going, but I really want to know why you think this is a brilliant idea, with Russia gone raving mad and trying to kill us off or make us become one with him, which is a bloody horrible idea, but we don't have much of a choice, and-"

"You're ranting, Iggy." America cut in, sighing dramatically. "I know it's not the best idea, but I have to help my country. They need me."

"Yeah, 'cause you're the bloody Hero." England grumbled, looking down at his shining boots so he didn't have to look into those earnest blue orbs. America chuckled grimly.

"Yeah, because I'm the Hero, Arthur, and the Hero has to go back and save his people. You understand that, right?"

"But Alfred, there is still the threat of Russia's air assault." England said, still refusing to look up because there was no way in hell he was letting America see the emotion on his face. After all, he was still a gentleman, and showing emotions outright was simply not done. But America had known him his entire life, really, and he could tell from the way America sighed that he knew exactly what was on his old guardian's mind.

"I'll be fine, Artie. We've forced them back for now, and once I'm back home we'll drive that bastard back to his tundra where he belongs."

"But you're capitol is almost obliterated, Alfred! You're in no condition to be playing the hero right now!" England cursed the touch of whine in his voice, but he was getting more desperate than he would admit. He just wanted…damn it, he might as well say it before he lost any shred of dignity. "Don't leave me, Alfred. Please…I can't…I can't watch you die. Not like this."

"Arthur…" America tipped up his chin with one gloved hand, a sombre smile on his face, his blue eyes sad. "I won't die, Arthur, you know that. I said that before, didn't I?"

"But it's not up to you, Alfred." England whispered, and America just shook his head, wry smile still gracing his lips.

"It never has been."

And then he moved forward, capturing England's lips with his own before England could do anything but make a small noise of surprise. Much to America's relief, England just melted into his touch, whole body relaxing for the first time in days, which meant he'd succeeded in his goal. England hadn't rested since the phone call, and it was obvious that even before that he hadn't gotten much sleep at all. America sighed lightly, but didn't break the kiss, instead letting it deepen until England's hand was in his hair and clutching at his bomber jacket, and somehow his own had found their way to the other nation's face. When they broke apart a few minutes later, both nations were short of breath, faces bright scarlet, but at the moment it didn't matter. England cleared his throat, preparing to speak, but America put a finger over his mouth to stop him.

"Don't try to stop me, Iggy. I have to go back, and we both know that. But just now…that was my promise, alright? I swear, I'll come right back."

"…you better…" England finally conceded, and America just chuckled, leaning forward to capture England's rosy lips one last time. When he stepped back he was smiling his characteristic smile, and then he saluted nonchalantly.

"See ya soon, Iggy!"

"Don't call me that." England grumbled, but America had already turned and walked out the door. England watched his every step with green eyes filled with sadness and yet there was also the hardness of anger, aimed at the nation who had dared kill another, dared hurt his Alfred…

_Russia…_

oOoOoOo

It was his last chance.

France knew that, and yet he didn't turn back.

Because he had found out what happened in his basement, _his _basement, and it sickened him. He actually threw up when he went down there to find three quaking Baltics, and his own _'son_' tied to a chair, and then…just the thought of it made bile rise to his throat again. He had never felt such anger in his life, and when Lithuania had lifted his frightened gaze to the man in the door he knew that Russia was beyond control. Who knew which one was next-himself? Spain? Canada…_?_

"_Dieu_." France whispered, but took a deep breath and continued forward toward what had once been his office, now where Russia had taken to sitting when he wasn't out of the house. It was his last hope-everyone's last hope before things got out of hand.

He only hoped it didn't fail.

oOoOoOo

England woke up the next morning, grumbling as he tried to wiggle back under the sheets. Judging by the lack of light in the sky, it was far too early for him to wake up yet, tired as he was, he was having a hard time sleeping. He groaned, poking his head back out from under the blanket to find that his phone was blinking next to his pillow. He frowned and picked it up, almost dropping it when he flipped it open to see who had called.

"Francis?" He grumbled, and then noticed the voicemail icon was blinking as well. He called the number and followed the instructions impatiently, wanting to know why on earth the frog was calling him. When he listened to the message, however, his blood ran cold;

"_Bon soir, Angleterre. You are probably asleep, though you do tend not to during wartime, but I had to do this as quickly as I could manage. I had hoped to talk to you, but I suppose this message will have to do in case…well, in case my stupidity finally kills me as you've always said it would."_

England froze at the pause in the message, listening as France drew in a deep breath on the recording.

"_Je suis très, très désolé, Angleterre. __I never meant for it to be like this, never wanted to go to war with you, but then you declared it, and…merde, Arthur, I just wish that none of this would have happened. Both you and I have started something that has caused such horrible things, and we can't go back and fix it. That is why I am calling you-I am going to confront Ivan." _Another shuddering breath that indicated how shaken France was. "_I cannot let him continue this. I saw…Dieu, Arthur, I can't even describe it. That is why I must go and try to stop Ivan before he causes any more deaths. I know I may fail, and that is why I wanted to call you before I did it. I hope that you can stop him if I cannot, Angleterre. I must go, so au revoir, Arthur Kirkland. I hope that I may one day see you again, but if I do not…I've always cared for you, and always will. Au revoir."_

"NO!"

England couldn't stop a harsh scream from erupting from his throat as the phone dropped from numb fingers, the automated voice announcing the end of the message. He scrambled after it, his hands shaking so badly that he missed the buttons several times before finally dialling the right number. He held his breath as it rung, and was surprised to hear someone pick up after the second ring. But the voice that rang out from it was cold and calm, and England felt a chill of realization run through him.

"_Ah, Arthur."_

"Where is he?" England hissed, his body trembling now with supressed anger aimed toward the man on the other end of the line. Russia just chuckled darkly.

"_Oh, you mean dear Francis, da? He is currently unavailable, but if you would like to leave a message…"_

"What the fuck did you do to him?" England swore very rarely, but things were serious, and he was majorly pissed off at that moment in time.

"_Language, dear Arthur. He is still alive, da? That is all that matters. Besides, he confronted me first. It is only what he deserves, da?"_

"Ivan, stop-!"

"_I must go, but you'll be hearing from me later, I'm sure."_

Russia hung up without another word, and England screamed again, flinging his phone across the room in his anguish. It crashed into the wall, breaking in two, but at that moment England was far from caring. He slumped to his knees, fingers knotting into his golden hair as his body began wracking with sobs. It was all spinning out of control, and now even France was overpowered. He wanted America to come back, to hold him tight, to tell him that everything would be okay, that he would save him from his nightmares. But those nightmares were real life now, and the England knew no one could save him from hell now. He let the tears fall down his face, voice echoing through his darkened bedroom just as the suns first rays began to light the horizon…

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, Germany was cuddling with Italy in the latter's large bed, tracing a finger down the sleeping nation's face. Italy's breaths were slow and even, and his face was so serene, so clam, that Germany could almost have believed that it was all just a dream, that he would wake up and Italy would smile at him and natter on endlessly about which kind of pasta he would be making that day, and which sights in his beautiful country he wanted to drag Germany to see. But he knew that it wasn't going to happen, and that he very well may have to leave Italy at any moment. He sighed, and Italy twitched in his sleep, curling into Germany even more, head tucked into his chest. Italy made a small humming noise as Germany sighed a second time, and then his amber eyes flickered open slowly.

"Ve, Ludwig..? Are you 'wake…?"

"_Ja_." Germany replied softly, smiling as he ruffled Italy's hair. "Go back to sleep, Feli."

"'M not ti…tired anymore." Italy replied, but the wide yawn refuted the statement. Germany sighed for a third time, drawing Italy back to his chest."

"You're lying, Feli."

"Am not."

"_Ja_, you are."

"Am not…" Italy argued sleepily, punctuating his sentence with another yawn as if to contradict himself. Germany chuckled softly, brushing Italy's lips with a light kiss.

"Go on back to sleep, Feli. I'll be right here."

"I know." Italy mumbled, eyes fluttering a few times before finally drooping shut. Germany waited until he heard faint snores to shut his own eyes, hoping that he could get some well-needed rest, but that night, sleep was hard in coming. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off-like the clam before the storm, in a way.

He was not looking forward the storm.

oOoOoOo

"Nem, kérem…nem lehet…nem…"-"No, please…it can't be…no…" (in Hungarian)

Arrêtez- Stop! (in French)

Perché- Why (in Italian)

Va bene- Okay (in Italian)

Arrivederci- See you soon (in Italian)

Dieu-God (in French)

Bon Soir-Good evening (in French)

Je suis très, très désolé-I'm very, very sorry (in French)

Merde- shit (in French)


	18. 17: Not Something I Deserve

A/N: The plot is finally up and running! :D I'm excited for this, guys!

((I would really love some fanart, if that's not too much to ask OuO I've never gotten any before, and it would be really awesome! I would love you forever!))

Don't forget to review! And guess song titles!

(((OH GEEZ, This is a repost 'cause my computer decided not to load the last 500 or so words DX So here they are)))

oOoOoOo

"_One more kiss could be the best thing,  
But one more lie could be the worst;  
And all these thoughts are never resting,  
And you're not something I deserve…"_

oOoOoOo

Germany didn't realize he'd drifted off until he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone going off. He jumped up, flipping it open to silence it and putting it to his ear, mumbling gruffly.

"Who is this?"

"_It's me, Germany."_

"England?" Germany was surprised at how dull and hollow England's voice was, even through the phone. "What happened?"

"_It's…I…I don't quite know. I just received a report from Paris saying that Russia moved out early this morning, taking several people with him."_

"What?" Germany said loudly, and Italy whimpered in his sleep. Germany ran a hand through the other nation's hair until Italy settled down again, and then he said in a quieter voice. "What do you mean, 'moved out'? Did he just pick up and leave?"

"_As far as I can tell._" England replied, and Germany knew there was something at the tip of the other's tongue that he wasn't saying, but he didn't push it. England seemed unusually frazzled, and Germany knew it took a lot to actually distress England in such a manner. Finally, England whispered in a broken voice. "_Francis confronted Russia."_

"What?" This time Germany stood up off the bed in one swift motion, and the shifting of the bed finally awoke Italy as well. The latter shot up, amber eyes blinking rapidly as he glanced around warily. When he spotted Germany he frowned and asked.

"What's going on?"

"Hold on a second, Feli." Germany told him, and then turned his back, missing the deep frown that crossed Italy's lips. "Is he alright?"

"_I don't know."_ England replied, and Germany could hear the sound of tears in his voice. "_I-I tried calling, but…Russia answered."_

"What did he say?"

"_Just that Francis was still alive, but he also mentioned something about g-getting what he deserved." _England's voice was choking. "_I-I'm assuming he's still alive, because we surely would have felt it, but…I also don't know what kind of condition he's in."_

"Are you going to Paris to look for clues?" Germany asked, following England's train of thought, and England made a small noise of affirmation.

"_I'm leaving tonight. If you wouldn't mind, I would like you to be there as well. I'm contacting the others as soon as I finish with you_."

Germany frowned deeply, glancing back at Italy. The smaller man was curled in his sheets, auburn bangs hiding his face, but Germany knew exactly what expression his lover was wearing behind them. He frowned, keeping his gaze on the other nation as he replied.

"I will be there."

"_Thank you."_ England replied shortly, but Germany knew that it was the best he was going to get, even if England was upset. "_Meet me at the hotel we usually use for meetings. I want to check things out as soon as possible."_

"Alright." Germany sighed, and he heard England do the same. "I will see you then."

"_Yeah." _England hung up without saying goodbye, which was so un-gentlemanly that it threw Germany off. He knew why it happened, though-fight as they did, it was easy to see how much England and France cared for each other, the same way he had for…he felt like a weight had been dropped on his chest and he had to sit down on the bed again before his legs gave out. He cursed himself-he hadn't broken down yet, and he refused to do it now. He felt the bed shift as Italy moved to his side, clinging to his arm tightly and amber eyes wide and watery.

"You can cry too, Ludwig." He whispered, voice shaking. "I won't tell anyone."

Germany just smiled, ruffling Italy's hair fondly and then pulling his head to his chest.

"I'm fine, Feli."

Italy just shook his head, pulling back so he could glare at Germany as best he could.

"You're lying. It's just me, Ludwig-you…you don't have to hold back."

"I'm not holding back, Feli." Germany assured him, but he faltered when Italy pouted. "Well, maybe the smallest bit, but I'll be perfectly alright. I can deal with it-oof!"

Italy tackled him, abruptly cutting off whatever Germany was going to say. He landed on the other nation's chest, and Germany felt all of the air rush out of his lungs.

"F-Feli..!"

"Why don't you take me seriously?" Italy said, his voice dangerously close to a whine, and Germany could see the somber look in his eyes and knew the other nation was completely serious. "Why don't you ever let me know how you feel? You…you always let me cry, or whine at you, or banter on and on, but you never let me see anything about yourself. "

"Feli…"

"Is it because I'm immature?" Italy pouted, but Germany felt the tears dripping onto his face. "Because I'm just silly little Italy, who nobody trusts to do anything? Because I'm too weak for you to even _tell_ me things, to let me see how you feel?"

"That's not it at all!" Germany snapped, but it wasn't as angry as he would have thought. When he continued there was a catch in his voice, and he knew that Italy heard it. "It's because I love you, Feliciano, and I don't want to burden you! You…you're everything to me, Feli."

Italy froze, gazing into Germany's deep blue eyes to see if the other man was lying but, if the blush on his cheeks was anything to go by, Germany meant it. Italy blinked, surprised, and then he let out a small sigh.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Feli." Germany said softly, and Italy just smiled weakly, shaking his head.

"No, I'm sorry for saying those things to you. I'm just so sad, a-and…"

Germany silenced Italy with a kiss, pulling the young nation by his shirt so that they were chest on chest. Italy didn't seem to mind-In fact, he appeared to be trying to find any possible way to get even closer to his blonde companion. Germany chuckled against his lover's lips, muttering breathlessly.

"_Ich liebe dich, _Feli."

"I know." Italy laughed, just as breathy. "_Ti amo_."

And then they were kissing again, Germany deepening it as far as he dared, but much to his surprise Italy was rather...skilled. He felt a blush rising to his cheeks, but he didn't even begin to consider stopping Italy's deft tongue from pushing past his lips. Instead, with a bit of a mischievous smirk, he used his own to push against it, successfully battling his way into the other's mouth, and was satisfied to hear Italy small gasp of surprise. He explored the inside of Italy's mouth as if to map every inch of it, and Italy hummed in pleasure. It seemed like hours when they finally broke apart, Italy grinning down at Germany and placing one last kiss to his lips before resting his head on the other nation's muscular chest.

"_Ti amo." _

"I know."

oOoOoOo

Hungary was the first to arrive at the hotel in the center of Paris that night, and she was almost relieved for that. She needed some time alone-it had been hard enough to convince her boss to let her leave in the middle of all the chaos that had erupted back in her country, but she needed to. There was some part in her that wanted to go to France's house, to see…but then there was the other portion, the more logical one that kept telling her that she might find something that would finally cause her to crack. Because she was already on the edge of it, and she knew it. Even as she sat on the prim bed sheets, she could only think about violet eyes, and dark, almost black hair, and fair hands…She felt her breath hitch and had to take several deep breaths to quell the sobs that wanted to erupt once more. She had been trying to hold them in all day, but she knew from the looks her boss and the other government workers were giving her that she was barely holding on. But none of them could blame her-after all, even their governments were tightly linked still. That also left her as the one person most likely to take on the responsibilities of being avatar to both nations, at least until a new Austria appeared. Prussia, however, had spent most of the day trying to convince them otherwise. It was strangely warming, seeing the albino nation getting worked up over her, trying to stop them from forcing her to take on the burden. He had yelled at them, telling them that it would only hurt both nations in the end, but they only said they really had no other option.

And they didn't.

Because Austria was gone, and even if another appeared, it wouldn't be the same-it wouldn't be _her_ Austria, the man she had fallen in love with centuries ago…_her_ Roderich. The man she had loved, even if she'd tried to deny it to the world, and now…now he was gone.

"Liz?"

She jumped, almost falling off the bed as a soft voice echoed throughout the room. Prussia was standing in the doorway, suitcase in his hand, and she could see the outline of the gun he had tucked in his coat. She frowned.

"Is that necessary?"

"With that fucking bastard on the loose? Hell yeah it is." Prussia shut the door behind him, stalking over and throwing his suitcase onto the other bed, but not sitting on it himself. Instead, he just stared at it, and Hungary wished she could have seen his face so she knew what he was thinking, though even then it might not have told her anything. Prussia was like his brother in the sense that he didn't want to trouble others by forcing his problems on them. She got up, and it wasn't until she was directly behind him that she saw his shoulders shaking and tears splashing onto his blue coat. She slid her arms around him, drawing him back into her, and he turned around so that he could bury his face in her shirt. She let him, pulling him back onto her bed so that she could hold him close, not caring that her shirt was already soaking from the steady stream of tears pouring from his eyes. It was a very rare occurrence, one she had only seen once before in the entire time she'd known him, and she knew that he wouldn't want her to let even his brother know it had happened. Not that she would ever tell him.

After almost ten minutes Prussia finally hicupped and pulled back, scrubbing his face on his sleeve as he grumbled.

"Sorry 'bout that…"

"Don't be." Hungary smiled sombrely, running a hand through his messy white locks. "Even the awesome you has to cry sometimes, right?"

Prussia just sighed, but he turned away so that he wasn't looking at her as he spoke.

"I convinced them to let me take his place."

Hungary's heart stopped for a moment, and then she gasped, grabbing his shoulders automatically.

"_What_?"

"Easy, Liz." He winced, and she loosened her grip as she remembered the old wounds.

"Sorry Gilbert. But what do you mean, you're taking his place?"

"I talked to his old boss." Prussia avoided the name purposefully, not wanting to bring either them to tears again. "He said that it would work since, well, I'm not really a nation anymore, ya know?"

"But you're East Germany." Hungary contested, and Prussia just laughed bitterly, shaking his head and still refusing to meet her gaze.

"Only barely, Liz. If things stayed the way they were…look, I never wanted any of you to know this, but I've known for a decent amount of time now."

"What are you talking about?" Hungary whispered, but she felt dread welling in her heart at his tone. His next words only confirmed her fears and sent it plummeting into her stomach.

"I'm dying, Liz."

She gasped, the sound echoing around the room as if to magnify her horror, and her hands went back to gripping his shoulders, green eyes wide as they would go.

"No! No, Gilbert, yo-you can't be!"

"I'm sorry." He said, voice soft, and she just gaped at him, feeling a mixture of stabbing fear and anger at his decision to keep them in the dark.

"Why didn't you say anything? Were you just going to let yourself die, and never tell any of us what was going on? Huh?"

"I didn't want you to worry." He replied, and she smacked him without thinking.

"You IDIOT! Of course I would worry…damn it, Gilbert!"

"Well what did you think was going to happen, Elizabeta?" Prussia retorted, sounding only a bit annoyed even though she'd just slapped him across the face. "That I would keep on living forever, even after my country itself no longer exists?"

"But your people…"

"Why do you think I'm dying?" He replied, and he was back to staring at his hands. "They're losing their identity and, sooner or later, they wouldn't remember at all. It's already happening, Liz, and when it finally does I'm fated to join the other oldies up in the stars."

"No!" Hungary shook her head, not wanting to believe it, but she could see him shaking again, and knew that he was just as scared of it. No, _more _scared…she pulled him back into her arms, burying her face in his snowy hair. "Yo-you can't die, Gil! Please, not…not you too."

"That's why I tried to convince them." He replied, voice muffled. "I'm going to take his place, to keep his country whole until…well, until little Roddy junior shows up, I guess."

"But what happens after that?" Hungary whispered, and when Prussia didn't answer her heart skipped a beat. "Gilbert, what happens to you after that?"

"…I think you know the answer to that." He finally muttered, and she clutched him even closer, wishing tears would come, but she had already cried too much.

"Oh, Gilbert…"

"'S alright." He mumbled, but she heard him struggle to keep his breathing even and knew that he wasn't just scared-he was _terrified_, and that thought alone frightened her. Prussia was always cocky, and obnoxious, and loud, but never afraid. Seeing him like this…it scared her to death. She kept him wrapped in her arms, and neither wanted to move from the comforting position, and so they sat there, trying not to think on the cloud of foreboding that hung over them….

oOoOoOo

England sipped his tea, wincing at the flavour. Nothing near what he had back at home, but it would have to do.

He was at the small café in front of the hotel, accompanied by Japan (who had still been in London), Prussia, and Hungary. The latter two looked miserable, and Hungary kept shooting glances at Prussia every few seconds, nursing the hot cup of coffee in her hands without taking a single sip. Prussia was being his loud obnoxious self and somehow that was more disconcerting. He noticed Japan was watching the pair as well, and wondered if they realized how obvious they were being. He sighed, shaking his head and bringing his cup to his lips just as Prussia shouted.

"Well, finally, there he is! Oi, West, took you long enough!"

England glanced over the rim of his cup to see Germany walking toward them, frowning deeply as he noted his brother's behaviour. Germany, however, knew better than to comment on it.

"I had to make sure Feliciano ate before I left." He said, and England raised his large eyebrows, and Hungary did as well.

"_Italy_ wasn't eating?"

"Aw hell." Prussia grumbled, and Germany nodded.

"I know. But he's doing better now, or at least he was when I left."

"That's good to hear." England said curtly, but he meant it. He found himself in a constant state of worry those days, whether about Italy, or America now settled back in his capitol, or about the unknown situation with France. Speaking of which… "We should get going, now that everyone is here."

"So what, are we just going to storm into the house? I mean, didn't Russia leave already?" Germany said, and England nodded.

"As far as I know, he is gone, but he may have left something that will be useful to us."

"Well, let's get going then."

"Wait."

They turned to look at Prussia, who was still sitting at the table, staring down at his folded hands. His foot was bouncing with nervous energy. Germany frowned.

"What is it?"

"There's something kinda important I have to tell you guys."

Hungary stared at him, wondering just how much he decided to tell them. She had a feeling he would try to hide it still, not wanting his brother to worry over him, but when the new Austria showed up…she didn't want to think about it. Prussia's glass was shaking in his hands, and he had several false starts before he finally got anything out.

"I'm going to take Roderich's place."

Germany's blonde eyebrows shot up, and even Japan's eyes widened slightly at the proclamation. England noted the lack of surprise on Hungary's face, but somehow it wasn't unexpected. She had been all but glaring at the short man the entire time they'd been at the café waiting. Prussia got no reply, but still continued, keeping his scarlet gaze to the table.

"It makes the most sense. West can just take over my part-which won't be much of a difference-and I will be the temporary personification of Austria."

"But what happens when the new one appears?" England asked astutely, and Prussia just sighed, trying to laugh but fooling no one.

"I guess we'll have to find out."

"But what about your people, _bruder_?" Germany asked, knowing his brother well enough to know there was something else going on in his brother's head. Prussia just sighed, finally looking up to meet his brother's gaze.

"You know as well as I do that it won't change much. Hell, I shouldn't even be here, West. I should have been dead decades ago."

"But the fact the you're still here proves that your people still love you." Germany objected, and Prussia opened his mouth to speak. He stopped himself, however, and Germany could see his brother debating how much to say. Finally, Prussia just stood up, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I've already made my decision. I just wanted to let you guys know."

Hungary was glaring at him, her green eyes hard as emeralds, but Prussia just walked past her and the others. She sighed in exasperation, catching up to him in a few long strides and hissing.

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"Because." Prussia replied, and she scowled.

"That's not an answer, Gilbert. They deserve to know the truth."

"I didn't tell them anything that wasn't truth, Liz." He replied calmly, and she had to fight the urge to smack him again.

"You have to tell them! Maybe they can find a way to stop it, to keep you from dying like this-!"

"You think I haven't looked already?" Prussia snapped, pace quickening as he tried to avoid her, but she was persistent in her desperation. She had already lost one person most dear to her, and she was sure as hell not going to just stand by and let the other go as well.

"They deserve to know wither way! You're not saving them from anything by avoiding the issue, Gilbert-in fact, all you're going to do is make this worse for the rest of us! Do you really want to do that to them-to _me?_"

"_Nein!_" Prussia yelled, spinning on his heel and almost smacking right into her, forcing the other nations to freeze as well. He glared at her one last time before turning back around, and this time she held back after seeing the almost crazed look in his eyes, and she remembered the way the tears fell from his red eyes, and the terrified look in his eyes. The others began following him, but they were glancing at her with confusion plain in their eyes. She only wished she could have given them an answer.

oOoOoOo

The large house was deadly silent, and England felt his blood run cold. The door was unlocked, swinging in the breeze on squeaking hinges like a warning. There were muddy footprints up and down France's once pristine walkway, and his gardens had been trampled and left in a pitiful state. That in and of itself almost broken England's heart-France had always been especially proud of his gardens, with their roses and posies and other bright flashes of colour that England had always secretly loved seeing when he visited. He ground his teeth, jumping when someone put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Japan standing behind him, silent but his brown eyes showed his sympathy as England turned his gaze back to the decimated gardens.

"We should go inside." Germany said softly, and England nodded.

"Alright, let's go, then."

They made their way up onto the front step, but England hesitated before stepping over the threshold and entering the empty hallway, his footsteps echoing throughout the silent house. The other nations followed, knowing better than to say anything as they walked down the hall, occasionally peeking into the rooms only to find all of them empty, some of their contents strewn around. They knew what that meant-Russia and his men were gone, and they had left in a hurry. England felt worry gnawing at his gut so harshly that he faltered in his step, and Japan grabbed his arm to steady him. The house was deathly silent, the only noise being their breaths and soft footsteps as Japan steered England up the stairs. It only told them the same story, and they found no evidence in anything left behind that could have helped them at all. France's office was a mess, with his papers strewn all over the floor and seemingly deliberately stomped on. England scowled, looking at the official documents mixed with several letters and other personal items that France had always kept. There were even letters from himself, and that made anger replace any other emotion that had previously filled his mind.

"This is so bloody wrong." He growled dangerously. "This…this is…"

"We know." Germany said quietly, glancing around at the room and shaking his head in disgust. "We have to stop him, as soon as we can. He's uncontrollable, Arthur, and he'll just keep on hurting people until he's got his way or he's dead."

"Personally, I'm liking the second option." Hungary muttered darkly, and Prussia nodded in agreement, his red eyes dark.

"We'll get him, Liz. I swear, we'll get that fucking bastard and shoot him dead or die trying."

"Gilbert." Germany said warningly, but there was a hint of fear in his voice as he looked back at his brother. Prussia just glared back, saying in an annoyed voice.

"It's true, West, and you know it. I bet you'd fucking shoot him if you were given the chance."

Germany didn't reply, turning and storming back out into the hallway. Everyone stayed still for a moment, then, beginning with Prussia, they followed the blonde back down the stairs. They reconvened in the main hall, and England sighed wearily.

"Well, they appear to have left nothing behind, and…well, no one, either." He added the second part with a hitch of his breath, and Hungary looked a bit green at the statement. Prussia grabbed her hand in his, gritting his teeth.

"Well then let's get the fuck out of here and start planning his well-deserved death, shall we?"

England sighed, nodding slowly.

"I guess there's not much else we can find here. Let's go, then."

They filed out the doorway until they heard Germany's sharp command to stop. He had been the last to leave, and when he was about to step through the door he'd heard something so soft it could have almost been his imagination. But the second time he heard it he knew that it wasn't just in his mind, and he turned and walked back into the house. He waited for several moments, waiting to hear the noise again so he could pinpoint its location. The third time it rang out he realized it was coming from beneath him and he spun to face England who was in the doorway, watching him with one of his eyebrows cocked.

"Does France have a basement?" Germany asked, and England nodded.

"Yes he does, why do you ask?"

"Because I heard something." Germany pointed to the floorboards, frowning. "From down there."

"Does that mean someone's still here?"

"I don't know." Germany said, and England pushed past him, going to one of the only closed doors, opening it to reveal stairs that went down into the darkness. England ran his hand over the side, finally finding the light switch and flicking it up. Light flooded the bottom, and they all walked down the stairs slowly, dreading what they would find at the bottom…

England was the first one to step down and he let out a loud gasp that echoed around the cement walls, and he darted forward.

"Matthew! Oh good heavens, Matthew, dear Matthew!"

He knelt down by Canada's side, the poor sandy blonde was still tied to the chair and seemingly unconscious. There was one other nation, and his hazel eyes were barely open, breaths coming out in gasps as he tried to focus his gaze on the nations now filling the small basement.

"'Tato…bast'rd…" Romano rasped, and Germany's blue eyes widened in horror as he took in the other's injuries. Romano was bleeding from several wound to the head and one of his eyes was blackened. There was also blood staining his shirt, turning it from white to pure red, and Germany was scared by the sheer amount of it.

"Romano! Russia left you behind?" Hungary gasped, and Romano snorted, a bit of blood coming from his mouth as he did so.

"Obv'sly…but he took...'e took them wi' him…he took…"

"Don't upset yourself." Germany said, moving to Romano's side, trying not to gag at the iron tang of blood that emanated from the smaller man. "You've been injured badly, Romano."

"y' don't think I f'cking know that…?" Romano tried to scowl, but the effect was lost by the wince that followed afterward. "He lef' us b'hind…said…said he didn' need us anymore…"

"Didn't need you?" England looked up, a deep frown on his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Romano shook his head slightly, whispering in his broken voice.

"Dunno…can't be good, tho'…is _f-frat'lo_ safe..?"

"He is back at the house." Germany informed him, still thinking about what Romano had said as Japan began untying him and Canada from the chairs. Romano immediately slumped forward, and Germany caught him, hearing the other man gasp loudly as he landed in his arms roughly. Germany held him as gently as he could, looking up at Japan with wide eyes. There was so much blood, and Romano was barely even keeping his eyes open…it was awful. Canada appeared to be entirely fine other than the fact that he wasn't waking up. England was trying desperately to get him to wake, but had no luck, and his voice was rising in pitch as his desperation mounted.

"Matthew….Matthew, wake up, please…bloody hell, Matt, don't do this…"

"What did Russia-san do to him?" Japan asked Romano, noting how the dark haired nation shivered when he said the name.

"'e gave 'im…somethin'….dunno…" He was finding it harder to speak, and his speech was getting more and more slurred as his eyes drifted shut again. Germany didn't stop him, and after a few seconds Romano finally passed out in his arms. The blonde just stared at his lover's brother, dreading Italy's reaction to his precious brother's condition. He lifted the smaller man as gently as he could, but even his unconscious state Romano whimpered piteously at the movement. England turned and raised his large eyebrows, green eyes wide and Germany was shocked to see the beginnings of tears in the corners.

"What do we do?" He whispered, and none of the other nations had any response. Prussia and Hungary had remained in the doorway, but the latter's gaze had suddenly been drawn away and a horrified gasp escaped her throat. Prussia immediately put a hand on her arm to stop her as she darted forward, but she was too fast for him. Germany was confused for a moment until he saw where she was going…and then he froze.

There was a lump in the corner, covered by a white sheet stained with brown. It took him a second to realize what it was, but when he did bile went up his throat, and he swallowed it down as Prussia's voice rang out.

"Liz, please, you don't want to look at it!"

"I have to." She whispered, and the other nations just watched as she stopped right beside the covering, her trembling visible from across the room. Prussia followed her, but his gaze was purposefully avoiding the lump under the sheet.

"Please, Elizabeta." He said in a strained voice, but she just shook her head determinedly and repeated.

"I have to. You know I do…" She sucked in a shuddering breath and knelt down on the cold ground, reaching out with shaking hands to pull off the cloth. When it came off everyone in the room stopped breathing, and Prussia himself retched and had to turn away, leaning against the wall and promptly vomiting on the cement floor.

It was Austria, but he was almost impossible to recognize. His entire face was smashed in, and there was blood covering every inch of his pale skin. His dark hair was matted with it, and his glasses had been placed next to his head, their lenses shattered and frames bent almost beyond recognition. Even England felt sick to his stomach and had to turn away.

"Bloody hell…"

They all jumped at the sound of something hitting the wall, and Germany found his brother had kicked one of the chairs into it in his rage. Prussia had his hands knotted in his pale hair, entire body tense as a coiled spring as he screamed.

"FUCK! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, IVAN BRAGINSKI, IN THE MOST FUCKING HORRIBLE WAY THERE IS! I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU AND I WILL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I WILL…I will…" Prussia broke off, kicking another chair in an attempt to relieve the weight on his chest, but it just wouldn't go away. Hungary, meanwhile, appeared to be completely frozen, not even breathing as she stared at the corpse of the man she had always loved. They may have divorced, and fought, but…she still loved him, so much, and now he was…

"Elizabeta!" Germany set down Romano just as Hungary's eyes rolled back and she crumpled to the hard ground in a heap. He Grabbed her before her head could hit the ground, and Prussia fell to his side, white hair sticking up in a way that Germany would have found funny if it weren't for everything that was going on. He couldn't look at the mutilated corpse in front of him, instead keeping his gaze on the pale woman in his arms as Prussia bent over her, his face neutral as he tried to control the raging storm inside him. Germany could see the pure rage in his brother's red eyes, and he whispered.

"Gilbert, _nein_."

Prussia didn't say anything, keeping his expression purposefully blank, but Germany knew better than that.

"_Bruder_, you can't go after him. He'll kill you."

"I know that. I'm not fucking stupid." Prussia grumbled, but his voice lacked its usual lustre. "But someone has to kill him, West."

"Prussia's right." England said quietly, still holding the unconscious Canada in his arms, and he was staring at the nation he'd helped raise with sorrowful green eyes. "We have to stop him, Germany. Before he kills any more of us."

"But he's too strong." Japan replied, and Germany nodded.

"Kiku's right, _bruder_. We wouldn't stand a chance-!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Prussia screamed, shooting up to standing, fists clenched tightly at his sides. "I don't fucking care what happens to me, West, as long as that fucking bastard gets what he fucking deserves for doing this to him! He…damn it, HE DIDN'T DESERVE THIS!"

Prussia stormed up the stairs, needing to be away from people before he did something he would regret. Germany watched him go, calling out once but knowing Prussia wouldn't turn around or return. He sighed, looking back down at Hungary, and they sat in silence until a soft gasp caused all three of them to look up.

"Matthew!" England cried, relieved to see blue-violet eyes slowly blinking open, and then widening.

"Arthur? Wha-what…what are you doing here?"

"We came to search France's house to find any clues to Russia's departure, but then Romano started yelling and alerted us to your presence, and then…well, and then we came down here." England knew he was rambling a bit, but he honestly didn't care. Canada was awake, and seemed to be fine albeit a bit on the drowsy side, but England had a feeling that had to do with whatever Russia had forced him to drink.

"He-he said he didn't need us anymore, and he was going to…" Canada suddenly gasped, struggling to sit up, his eyes going wide behind his crooked lenses. "Where's Germany?"

"Right here." Germany replied, but that seemed to be the wrong response-Canada's eyes widened impossibly more, and when he spoke again his voice was breathy and rushed.

"You need to get back to Italy now! Russia said he was leaving us behind because he had a better plan, a better prisoner to take, and that's why he left!"

"What are you trying to say?" England asked, confused, but it wasn't him who went stock still at the sobbed response.

"Russia's going to take Italy!"

oOoOoOo


	19. 18: Let Me Say

A/N: Sorry for the long time between updates ;A; Szeretlek! (I Love You! (in Hungarian))

There are two characters I've realized I fail at characterizing-England and Spain ;A;

Also, I added the missing part to the last chapter D: It got cut off somehow, so if you haven't already go back and read the last 500 words or so!

oOoOoOo

"_Please come now I think I'm falling,  
I'm holding to all I think is safe…  
It seems I found the road to nowhere,  
And I'm trying to escape;  
I yelled back when I heard thunder,  
But I'm down to one last breath-  
And with it let me say,  
Let me say…"_

oOoOoOo

Italy was just falling asleep when it happened.

There was a crash from the lower floor of the house, and he jolted to sitting, amber eyes going wide in fear. Someone was in his house, and they didn't sound friendly. When he heard the voice speaking his worst fears were confirmed, and he rushed to the door to lock it after the first syllable.

"I-taaa-lyyyy!" The sweetness of the voice was sickening, and Italy shivered as he clutched at the doorknob. Russia had come for him, and suddenly his heart was beating double time, breath quickening. Oh, Russia had come for him, and he knew what that entailed…he shuddered violently, backing away from the door and pulling on his chest of drawers, trying to block the door, but he wasn't strong enough. He whimpered, wishing that his room wasn't on the second floor so he could just escape out the window.

"There's no need to hide, da? I just want you to become one with me, this doesn't have to be difficult~!"

Another whimper escaped his mouth at Russia's voice, getting closer by the second. He curled up on the floor next to his bed, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. He didn't want to die, not like Austria had…his stomach churned at the thought and his trepidation increased. He listened to the loud footsteps that thumped, coming closer by the second. He looked up in a last-ditch effort to find something to defend himself, but he only found his phone on the side table. There weren't any nations close enough, but…he dialled Germany's number, fingers shaking enough to make the task near-impossible. When Germany picked up Italy started speaking immediately, cutting off Germany's greeting.

"Ludwig! I-I had to call you, b-because he's here, a-a-and I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, s-so m-m-much!"

"_He's there already?" _Germany's voice sounded incredibly panicked, and Italy nodded without thinking.

"_S-si_, a-and I locked my, door, b-but you know how h-he is, he won't be stopped by something as s-silly as that, and…" He squeaked as a loud knock sounded, and Russia called his name from right outside the door. When he spoke next the pitch of his voice had risen several octaves. "_Dio_, h-he's right there, Ludwig! _Dio, dio, dio, dio….."_

"_Feliciano!" _Germany yelled on the other end of the line, and Italy stared wide eyed as the door began to bow with Russia's heavy fist-falls.

"_M-mi dispiace, Ludiwig_…_ ti amo_…" Italy whispered as the door began to splinter, and Germany was screaming in fear.

"_Don't hang up! Feliciano, don't-!"_

Italy shut the phone, clutching it in his trembling hands as he forced himself to his feet, deciding that it was time he did something other than cower and run away. He set the phone down on the table just as the door blew inward, the slivers spraying across the room, revealing a smiling Russia.

"Привет, little Italy." He said calmly, and Italy felt a whimper drop from his lips, unbidden. Russia chuckled. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, da?"

"Like you didn't hurt the others?" Italy said, surprising himself with the strength of his voice. Russia just laughed again, walking forward.

"They deserved it, da? They should know not to disobey me."

Italy just shook his head, not trusting his voice anymore as the Russian continued forward, finally stopping only a few inches in front of him. He towered over Italy, and that didn't help matters at all. In fact, Italy began to shake so much that he had no idea how he was remaining on his feet, and he was staring right up into Russia's cold amethyst eyes. Russia just smiled, saying softly.

"You will be coming with me. It would be best to not resist. You wouldn't want to end up like your brother, da?"

Italy shook his head defiantly, regretting it immediately as a fist hit him in the side of the head, knocking him to the floor easily. He looked up, clutching his cheek, and felt a shiver run through him at the crazed look in Russia's eyes. The man had clearly cracked, and Italy wondered how none of them had noticed before it was too late. Russia giggled, and another shiver ran up Italy's spine as he whispered.

"What happened to you, Russia? Y-you never used to this mean…"

"Is that so? Or was silly little Italy too naïve to notice how long I have been planning this, this beautiful conquest."

"But y-you shouldn't be killing other nations!" Italy cried, Austria's face popping into his mind, the smile of his once-caretaker whom Russia had brutally murdered. He felt anger building up, but supressed it, shocked by his own emotions. Italy _never_ got angry-not even when France had told him of the death of his childhood love, Holy Roman Empire. He had always just cried, and wept, but never had he felt so absolutely angry. But the man towering above him had not only murdered his friend, but had hurt his brother, his _fratello_, and bombed his country…

"He was just an example, da? Just to show them what will happen if they continue to deny my requests."

"You didn't have to kill him." Italy whispered, voice carrying a harsh note that made Russia's pale eyebrows lift a little in surprise. But after a moment his smile was back, and he chuckled eerily.

"It was an accident, da?"

"But you killed him!" Italy stood back up, limbs trembling now with anger rather than fear, and Russia snorted and shrugged dismissively.

"I already told you, little Italy, it was an accident. But that is not important now, da? You just come along with me calmly and you don't have to get hurt."

"N-no." Italy said, trying to maintain his defiance but the fear was returning full force at the look in the Russian's eyes. Russia just sighed lightly, and Italy noticed the pipe in his hand as the larger nation tapped it against his boot.

"Well that's too bad. I didn't want to hurt you, really, but if you insist…"

oOoOoOo

"West! Wait up!"

Germany ignored his brother's cries as he exited the plane in one quick swoop. He had to get to Italy's house as fast as he could, and there were still several miles to go from the private airport to get there. His heart was beating so fast he was surprised it was still in his chest. Italy had called only a few minutes ago, and he had felt like everything started going in slow motion, like he could never move fast enough. Russia was already at Italy's house, and Germany was almost positive he would arrive too late. He heard cursing behind him as Prussia finally caught up to him again. His brother had been following him since he ran out of France's house as fast as he could after Canada's proclamation, and had been the one to fly the plane since Germany was in no state to do so. The flight had seemed all too long to him, and he was fidgeting the whole time. Prussia for once didn't make any rude comments, but tried to comfort his brother as best he could the entire ride. They had left everyone else back at France's, wanting to go as fast as possible, but even then they weren't going to make it, and Germany was suddenly very, very frightened by the prospect. Russia was alone with Italy, _his_ Italy, and after seeing what happened to Austria…

"West, wait a moment and I'll get us a car!"

Germany didn't say anything, but he didn't slow down either. Prussia sighed and turned around to go find someone who was willing to loan them a car to get there faster. When he finally found a car he could "borrow" from a random Italian citizen he had to drive along the road for a good mile or so in order to catch up with his brother. Germany was stalking along the road as fast as he could, but he turned when he heard the sound of the approaching car(loud and flashy, as most Italian cars were).

"Need a ride?" Prussia joked, and Germany just shot him a frosty glare as he opened the door and flung himself into the passenger seat.

"Drive." He ordered, and Prussia did so without any fuss, because he could see the look in his brother's eyes. The blue depths showed a mixture of despair, fear, but most of all was pure fury. Prussia knew exactly who it was directed at, too, and he had a feeling he was going to be the one having to hold Germany back now. When Germany got angry…well, Prussia knew that Russia wasn't going to survive long if Germany had any say in it. Granted, Prussia would help him-he had every right too. He gritted his teeth, foot lowering on the pedal as he thought of the mangled body they had found back in that basement. He wasn't sure he could even control himself if he were to see the Russian, but he was pretty sure his brother wouldn't stop him either, not if…no, it was too horrible to imagine. Just thinking about what Russia could do to Italy in the time they were taking to get there made Prussia speed up even more, and he was glad there were very few police on the road at that time. He was definitely at least fifteen kilometres per hour over the speed limit, but he was trying to get there as fast as he could. His brother wasn't speaking, but when Prussia glanced over he could see his brother's hands curled into fists, knuckles white from the pressure. They sat in tense silence for the rest of the ride, but the second Italy's house came into view Germany sat up in his seat, hand already curling around the handle before Prussia even pulled into the driveway. The moment the car stopped Germany flung himself from it, tearing up the driveway and up the walk in seconds. The door was torn from its hinges as if by some wild animal, and Germany's heart almost stopped, but he forced himself to continue forward past the splintered wood and into the house. His mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions, and he realized how quiet the house was. He felt faint, knowing exactly what that silence meant, and dreading it. He made his way up the stairs, heart beating heavily against his ribcage, tempo increasing with each step. When he saw Italy's door splintered and broken he dropped to his knees, unable to bring himself to look, to see…

"West?"

He didn't notice Prussia until his brother was standing right behind him. Germany didn't look up, didn't meet Prussia's gaze, but his brother just put a hand on his shoulder and then walked past him.

"I'll look for you, alright?"

Germany just nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from his brother's lithe form as he walked down the hallway and peered through the shattered doorway. He watched his brother's face, trying to garner his reaction, but Prussia's face was blank even as he stared into Italy's room. Finally Prussia just shook his head and bowed it.

"He's not there." He said quietly, sounding relieved yet at the same time Germany knew he had seen something because his brother had shut his eyes tightly as if trying to block out an image. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled forward, forcing himself to look in the room-

And then he froze.

Painted on the wall in red was one word in Russian, a word they had both heard so often…

_Мой_

Mine.

oOoOoOo

France groaned loudly, trying to blink open his eyes but found it was exceedingly difficult. One of them was swollen completely shut, and he blearily remembered Russia swinging out to hit him after France declared he was done with the way Russia was doing things. He had been hit all over, and it seemed as if every inch of his once beautifully pale skin was now covered in bruises. He was also fairly certain he had at least one broken rib, and his right arm wouldn't move. He groaned again, and then he heard a small sigh from his left.

"Please don't move, Francis."

"'Tonio?" France slurred, and he heard another sigh, and then his old friend's voice.

"_Si_, _mi amigo."_ He heard Spain moving closer, and then the lightest of touches on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." France replied honestly, not having the mental capacity to try to lie at that moment in time. "_Oú sommes-nous?"_

"I don't know." Spain replied, trying to keep his voice light, but his mind was far away. France knew exactly what his friend was thinking about-he had been barely awake when they had been leaving, but he'd heard Russia's cries to leave Canada and Romano behind. Spain had protested loudly, but Russia just hit him over the head. After that, France didn't remember anything, so he assumed he'd blacked out. He could tell they were in some kind of vehicle by the motions, but didn't know where they were. Neither he nor Spain had heard of Russia's plans, so when Italy whimpered from a few feet away they both jumped in surprise, and Spain gasped loudly.

"Veneziano! What are you doing here?"

"Nn…wha..?" Italy's voice was faint and they heard him trying to move until he gasped in pain and the motions stopped. Spain shifted and scooted back until he felt a body in front of him. He touched what he realized was the shoulder, drawing back when he felt it was wet.

"What happened?" He gasped, and Italy just whimpered again.

"Russia…came to m-my…house…" he managed to get out, and Spain's eyes widened in the darkness.

"He did? Where was Germany?"

"E-England…called him t-to…look at F-France's house…" Italy sounded breathless and in a great deal of pain, and Spain wished he could see better so he could bandage the small nation's wounds. Italy's words did provide one small hint of relief, however, and he kept his voice light as he replied.

"That's good, that means Romano is safe."

"I kn-know he is…" Italy whispered, coughing lightly, and Spain put out his hand again, resting it on Italy's shaking shoulder.

"Just take it easy, Veneziano. Are you injured badly?"

"N-no…" But Spain knew Italy was lying, and that alone made his heart sink. He was still trying to fathom how everything had fallen apart in so short of time, going from peace to war in so short a time. Sure, the economy had been suffering, but most inter-country relations had been friendly and for once almost all the countries had been on good terms. He had been extremely shocked by England's declaration of war, and by France's shortly afterward, but somehow….Russia's snap had been expected. Frightening, _si_, but expected. Spain had always been rather wary of the tall nation and his faucet pipe, and he saw something that lingered behind those violet eyes even after everyoneelse had claimed Russia had changed. He had told Romano as much, but Romano had just brushed it aside like he always did and went back to insulting Spain in that adorable way, that was always his unique way of saying "I love you." He felt a pang in his heart at the thought of his adorable little tomato, probably thousands of miles away now, probably not even awake yet. He had seen how beaten up his poor Romano looked, how vulnerable and agonized. It had hurt him more than any wound Russia could inflict.

"_F-fratello Spagna?"_

Spain felt about for Italy's head and then ran a hand through his blood-matted hair, knowing it brought comfort to the nation. Italy's breaths evened after several long minutes, though for all Spain knew it could have been hours. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed in the back of whatever vehicle they had been put in. Spain sighed, letting his hand continue its motions as he scooted back against the wall by France. They sat in uncomfortable silence until finally France whispered hoarsely.

"Do you think they'll try to save us, Antonio?"

"Of course they will." Spain replied, optimistic as always. "Why wouldn't they, Francis?"

"Because they're scared?" France sighed, wincing in pain. "And why shouldn't they be? Ivan's lost his mind, and he'll kill any of us without a second thought. _Dieu_, Antonio, either you or I could be next!"

"They will save us." Spain said firmly, refusing to lose hope. Ever since waking up tied to that chair he had been trying his hardest to hold onto what hope he could, because that was simply his nature. France just sighed again, and Spain was surprised to feel his friend's head dropping onto his shoulder as he whispered.

"I don't think they will."

"They will." Spain reaffirmed, and he heard France chuckle sadly.

"You always were a blind optimist, Antonio."

"I just believe in the true good in people, Francis." Spain corrected his old friend, and France chuckles again, but Spain can hear the weariness in it. "Go back to sleep, Francis."

It didn't take long for France's breath to even out, and then it was just Spain, with only his thoughts to occupy him as they travelled onward toward their unknown destination.

oOoOoOo

Romano had just woken up when Prussia called with the news.

Hungary, who was in the room with him, had to stop the Italian from strangling England when he told them. Romano had shot up, despite his injuries, his hazel eyes squinted in fury.

"Don't lie to me, you bastard! Don't you-fuck, you're lying! You have to be!"

"Calm down, Romano." Hungary told him, but she her heart had dropped at the news as well. Prussia sounded furious over the phone, and said that he was still at the house with Germany, trying to convince his brother not to run out the door and take the first flight to Russia.

_If that's even where they're heading, _Hungary thought bitterly, and she frowned as Romano slumped into her arms, having used all of his energy to yell at England. He hung his head as tears poured down his face, and she felt his entire body wrenching with his sobs. She brought him back to his bed and sat him down, wrapping her arms around him as she fought the urge to cry herself. She had woken up shortly after Germany left, after Japan and England had both taken away the body of her former husband, and had found Canada awake and England at his side, yelling about something. She had almost fainted a second time when they told her, and she had been tortured with images of what might be since. Italy, his body broken like Austria's, handsome face marred with blood and crushed beyond recognition…the mere thought of it made her want to vomit, and she knew that Germany was likely being tortured by the same thoughts. She tightened her embrace on the southern half of Italy and rocked him slightly as tears finally escaped her eyes, and they sat together, giving each other what little comfort could be offered at a time when it seemed like the entire world was coming crashing down around them…

oOoOoOo

Привет-Hello (in German)

Oú sommes-nous- Where are we? (in French)


	20. 19: In My Sleep

A/N: I swear I'll update more often ;A; school is taking all my life right now!

Also, this one's late because my computer had an unexpected shutdown and I lost not only most of this chapter but also both the one-shots I was writing DX So I swear I'll have those done as soon as I get them rewritten! And it's also AP testing time which means a lot of studying and junk so sorry guys! More frequent updates after this, I swear! Don't hate me ;A;

oOoOoOo

"_Sorry if I cry, feelings run so deep;  
Many is the time when I wake up and find I've been crying in my sleep…  
Look me in the eye, tell me what you see-  
I'm the one who loves you, I'm the one who needs you, make this one for me…"_

oOoOoOo

It was silent in the large meeting room, a rare occurrence those days. Even America was silent, sitting at the head of the table as always, a new bandage on his head and several more peeking out from under his bomber jacket, which got looser every day. England was by his side, green eyes locked on his former colony as America stood up shakily, plastering on a smile and trying to laugh, failing miserably.

"Hello, everyone. You all know why we're here, but in case you don't, I'll fill y'all in…"

America summarized all the events leading up to there, in the large meeting room in London, with every country that could make it in attendance. Most of the Asian countries weren't there, as they were trying to fend off Russia's advances. Japan had left as soon as Romano woke up, having received a call saying South Korea was falling under. The news from the east looked grim, and America wasn't faring much better. Russia had sent even more forces into his lands, and even the Midwestern states were slowly being encroached upon. Many citizens from Minnesota and the other border states were fleeing to Canada, and the Canadians welcomed them with open arms. Russia hadn't made any advances on the twin country thus far, but Canada was sending in his troops to back up his brother. England would have as well, but he had his own country to protect. All of them did.

"…so what do you guys think we should do?" America concluded, but the room was silent. Germany was sitting at the far end of the table, his brother sitting next to him. Prussia had been officially signed off as the representative of Austria (temporarily, of course), and somehow instead of looking worse he looked…better. His skin was less pale, and he seemed to have more energy that he had previously. No one had even realized that he'd been looking so off until he was suddenly looking healthy and flushed. Had Germany been in any mind to say something he would have, but he was just staring down at the table, not meeting anyone's gaze. He hadn't spoken to anyone since Prussia dragged him back to England after leaving Italy. Germany seemed numb, like it hadn't quite sunk in what had happened. Russia had Italy-_his_ Italy…and he was badly injured, had lost a decent amount of blood from what they'd seen. What if…no, Romano had said his brother was still alive, and Germany had to believe him. Romano might hate him, but he would never lie to him, not about something like that. Germany didn't realize someone had directed a question at him until the entire room went silent, almost every nation staring at him as he looked up. He cleared his throat several times, trying to force out the words.

"Ah…I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you had any thoughts on where Russia was taking them." America said softly and for some reason Germany hated the pity in his sky-blue eyes. He was too weary to retort, however, and just shook his head and replied softly.

"If I knew, he would be saved already."

America just nodded, looking to his right where Canada was seated, pale and a bit shaky but otherwise fine. America had taken the first flight over when his brother had called, and he had started crying at the sound of his brother's soft voice (though he'd never admit it). Canada was looking at Germany, his eyes identical in all but colour.

"He won't kill Italy." The Northern twin said quietly, shifting everyone's gaze onto him for once. Somehow, he found he didn't want the attention right then. "I…Russia said he wanted him for something, s-so I doubt he'd kill him…"

"Unless he ticks him off somehow." England muttered, and Prussia shot him a glare as Germany's fists clenched and he turned his gaze back down. England flushed but continued. "You know it's true, Germany. You were there, you heard what happened to Au-"

"England!" Prussia snapped loudly, and England shut his mouth because he knew from the look in the other's scarlet eyes that if he kept going he was going to have his arse handed to him on a platter. America sighed, shutting his eyes wearily as he said.

"Alright, guys, let's settle down, 'kay?"

"How are we supposed to be calm when Russia is kidnapping and harming nations left and right?" Hungary said, her voice eerily calm and a bit strained from containing her emotions. "He still has France and Spain, as well as Italy. One of us could be next."

"Ah."

Everyone turned as Norway cleared his throat, surprised to hear him speaking up. Generally, the Nordics sat quietly and rarely voiced their opinions during world meetings (with the exception of Denmark, of course). When he spoke his voice was rough and England noticed bags under his dull blue eyes.

"Tino's been missing for a couple of days now."

A murmur of surprise immediately spread around the room, and America's blue eyes actually widened behind his lenses.

"Finland's missing?"

Norway nodded, glancing sideways at the tall blonde nation sitting to his right. Sweden looked the same as always, until you looked deep into his blue-green eyes and saw the fire underneath, a tribute to his old Viking days that never showed. No one had seen him look that upset since Russia had taken Finland many years before. America ground his teeth, running a hand through his hair and wincing a bit.

"Damn it!"

"Are you sure he's missing?" Canada asked softly, and Iceland nodded miserably.

"We looked everywhere. He was on his way home from visiting me, and he never made it."

"So Russia has four nations now, not including the Baltics." England muttered, and America sighed in frustration, reaching his hand up to run it through his hair again. England grabbed his wrist, glaring at him, and America sighed again.

"We need to do something!" he proclaimed loudly, and England snorted.

"And just what do you propose we do, Alfred? Storm Russia?"

"Sounds good to me."

"That'd be suicide!"

"Would you rather stand by and let Russia kill someone else, England?" Prussia snapped, and America slammed his hands down on the table, face twisting in pain briefly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying! We need to save them!"

"You can't always be the hero, Al." Canada whispered, but if America heard him he ignored his brother's worry.

"I have the technology and stuff we need-it wouldn't be too hard to track them down."

"And, like, then what?" Poland said, looking annoyed. "You obliterate them? Isn't that, like, counterproductive or something?"

"If we find them then we can send people in to retrieve our friends." America returned, looking just as annoyed. Prussia stood up from his chair swiftly, hands banging down on the table causing several nations to wince.

"As if it'll be that fucking easy! This is fucking _Russia_ we're talking about, America, not one of your god damn storybook villains!"

"Gilbert-!"

"I won't fucking clam down!" Prussia said, glaring at Canada who had begun cautioning his friend. The quiet nation winced at the other nation's harsh voice. "We have to kill that bastard, and then we can take back the others! It'll be much easier once that fucking bastard is lying six feet under!"

"And your plan is somehow more reasonable?" England snorted, crossing his arms and shut his eyes as Prussia glared at him. Before he could speak anymore, however, a rather quiet yet firm voice rang out.

"Sh't up, all of y'."

Once again everyone's gazes went to where the Nordics were seated, realizing that at some point the tallest of them had stood up, glaring at them through his lenses. Sweden finally looked entirely pissed off, which was almost frightening. When he spoke, however, it wasn't only anger that tinged his voice.

"We sh'd be s'ving Tino an' th'others, 'stead 'f bic'ring like chil'ren."

"He's right, you know." Greece spoke up, and several nations turned, not having even noticed the drowsy man in the room. England sighed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Well, we're trying, but this is bloody difficult, and-"

"You like bickering too much, yes, we know." Switzerland, and had it been a normal meeting they probably would have snickered at the irony of the trigger-happy Swiss remarking on other nation's temperament. But it was no time for laughter, and no one even smiled as the blonde nation glared at them. America sighed again, looking exhausted as he said.

"'Kay, so what should we do then, Switzerland? Hell, if anyone has an idea…" America coughed, bowing his head and covering his mouth with a gloved hand. England put a hand on his arm, large eyebrows drawing together in worry as the cough persisted for an entire minute. America finally looked back up, smiling, but England gasped when he noticed the scarlet at the corner of the other nation's mouth.

"Alfred!"

"'s fine, Iggy." America told him, brushing the blood away with his thumb and smiling shakily. "Just aftereffects, ya know…D.C.'s not doing well, and stuff, and, uh….anyways, I'm totally fine, so let's just get back to the meeting, ha ha…"

England was frowning deeply, but he looked away because he knew America was simply trying to preserve his pride, and he respected that. America was a very proud nation, believing that he had to be strong because he was the hero. When he looked to America's right he noticed Canada was still watching his brother, blue-violet eyes sad behind his glasses. He caught England's gaze and nodded sadly at his 'parent'-he knew exactly how bad things were in his brother's country. He had been talking with Romano and discovered that Italy wasn't faring much better, Russia's bombs having done severe damage to several of their main cities. That was why it was taking them so long to heal, and Romano was annoyed by that fact. He was mainly silent, however, but it wasn't all that surprising-Russia now had both his brother and the man he loved more than he'd like to admit. Canada sighed deeply as his brother continued the meeting, writing everyone's ideas on the large whiteboard in his messy script. Many of the nations remained silent, and at one point Sweden just stood up and exited the room. No one commented, and instead just kept on discussing. Germany didn't speak the rest of the meeting, and they finally decided to call it a day around midnight. Germany was the first out the door, followed by his brother and Hungary. England noticed America's head drooping and his glasses were sliding down his nose as it lowered to the table. He chuckled, putting a hand on his former charge's shoulder, startling America.

"Come on, Alfred-you need your rest."

"Mm, but I need to call my boss…" America mumbled, but England sighed as he helped the larger man to his feet.

"That can wait 'til morning, Alfred. Come on, lad, let's get you to bed."

oOoOoOo

"I will tie you to the fucking bed if you don't get some sleep, West!"

Germany just shook his head, continuing to read through the documents that had begun piling up on his desk. It was almost four in the morning, and Germany still hadn't gone to bed. He hadn't slept since he had left Italy's almost two days ago at that point, and he was stubbornly refusing to. He instead went directly to his office and shut the door. Prussia finally got fed up with it and went in to convince his brother to get at least a bit of rest, but Germany silently refused. Prussia was not a force to be reckoned with when tired and cranky, however, and he stormed over to the desk, yanking the documents from his brother's hands, glaring at him.

"Go to bed now, _bruder_."

"_Nein_." Germany finally spoke, but he didn't meet his brother's gaze. Prussia scowled.

"I know you're worried about him, West, but that doesn't mean you should be stupid like this."

"I'm not being stupid. I have work to do." Germany replied shortly, and Prussia rolled his eyes.

"Work that needs to be done at four in the fucking morning? I highly doubt that."

"Just leave me alone."

"Hell no." Prussia moved around the desk so he was next to his brother, and he put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, _bruder_, let's get you to sleep. We have another meeting early tomorrow."

"It won't solve anything." Germany grumbled, signing his name at the bottom of the sheets he was holding and ignoring his brother's tightening grasp on him. "I have my own plans."

"If they involve you running off to Russia's house with a fucking machine gun or something I'm going to have to lock you in the basement, West." Prussia was trying to keep his voice light but Germany knew full well what that his brother was serious. He sighed again, grabbing another document from his stack, but before he could even begin reading it a hand slammed down on it. "Damn it, West! At least….fuck, just cry, or hit me, or something, just…_bitte_…"

"Gilbert?" Germany finally looked up at his older brother, and he blinked rapidly when he saw tears in the corners of Prussia's scarlet eyes. Prussia just flung his arms around his brother, muttering.

"You're such an idiot sometimes, Lud."

Germany didn't say anything, but he hugged his brother back, letting his head drop onto his brother's shoulder. He didn't even notice that he was crying until Prussia was rubbing his back and whispering soothing words of comfort. Well, as best as Prussia could.

"There you go, you big idiot, let it all out on your awesome brother's shoulder."

Germany just continued to cry silently, trying to stem his tears for the sake of his pride, but it wasn't working. He was just so worried, and afraid for Italy who was in the clutches of the insane Russia. Every time he thought about having to hear Italy killed over the phone like with Austria it made him want to call up his boss and send several giant nuclear bombs over to Russia. He clutched Prussia's shirt, trying to stop the thoughts from running through his mind, but they just wouldn't stop. Prussia kept a hand rubbing small circles on his back, resting his head on top of his brother's as he sighed.

"We'll figure this out, West. I promise."

Germany wished he could believe him.

oOoOoOo

When Spain woke up he found himself in a darkened room. There was one dusty bulb on the ceiling providing light, barely enough to see around him. It appeared to be a basement of some kind, with concrete walls and no windows. Spain groaned, sitting up from the cold wall he had been placed against. France was at his side, still completely out of it, but Italy was nowhere to be seen. That made any fog in Spain's mind clear away and he stood up quickly, walking over to the door on the opposite side of the room and banging on it.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out, and after a minute or so he heard footsteps approaching. He stepped back as the door cracked open to reveal Lithuania, looking haggard and exhausted. He smiled at Spain wearily, lifting up the try in his hands.

"I brought you some food. I was waiting for you to wake up."

"Where's Veneziano?" Spain asked, and Lithuania winced, shaking his head sadly.

"With R-Russia."

"¿_Qué?" _Spain gasped, and Lithuania nodded, trembling as he stared down at his boots.

"H-he said he had special p-plans for Italy." He whispered. "H-he said…he said he wanted t-to b-b-break him…"

Lithuania was quickly dissolving into tears, and Spain would have done the same if he wasn't paralyzed in horror. The mere thought of the kinds of things Russia could do to Italy made his stomach twist into knots, and he thought of his poor Romano who would know exactly what was going on and being helpless to do anything about it. Not that Spain could either, but he knew that it would hurt Romano even more. Lithuania took a deep breath, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and trying to smile as he set the tray down on the floor near the still unconscious France.

"I-I'll just leave this here, um…th-there's someone else who will be joining you soon, s-so…um…"

Lithuania retreated up the stairs, leaving Spain to stare at the tray of food. Having absolutely no appetite he curled his legs to his chest, putting his arms around them and resting his head on his knees. But he refused to cry, because crying meant that he gave up, and he wasn't giving up. He would find a way to rescue both Italy and get back to his Romano, because he had promised to protect him. Even if Romano was older now, taller than Spain, he would still protect him, because he loved him so much. He sank his head lower, breath coming out in gasps as he tried to calm himself down. He felt a hand on his arm and he lifted his head, finding himself staring into deep blue eyes. He gasped and then laughed nervously.

"Oh, Francis! Wh-when did you wake up?"

"Just now. I heard you crying."

"I'm n-not crying." Spain protested, but France just shook his head.

"Do not lie to me, _mon ami_. It's okay to cry when the world is crashing down around you, _non_?"

Spain just shook his head, letting his head sink back down to rest on his knees.

"What are we going to do, Francis?" he whispered, staring at the floor. "Russia has Ita with him, alone, and we're stuck down here."

"Have you tried to get out?" France asked, surprised by his friend's pessimism. Spain just frowned, shaking his head slowly.

"No, but this is Russia we're talking about-there isn't going to be a way out."

"That may be true, Antonio, but that doesn't mean we should give up." France said, patting Spain's shoulder once before standing up shakily. "Now, there appears to be a lack of windows, so our only way out is through the door…"

"Which is made of steel, Francis." Spain supplied glumly, but he unfolded his legs and stood up to join his friend. He refused to lose hope now, when France was still trying so hard. Besides, Boss couldn't abandon his little tomato like that, could he? He felt a sad smile making its way to his face at the thought, and France turned to give him one as well.

"See, there's that smile of yours. We can't be losing hope now, because that's just not what we do, right?"

"_Si_." Spain replied quietly, and France pulled him into a hug.

"_Bon._ Now, let's eat some of that food and think up a way to teleport out here!"

Spain laughed aloud that time, and the sound was music to France's ears. He hugged Spain again before breaking apart, the two of them digging into the frugal meal , smiling through their tears.

oOoOoOo

"Norge?"

Norway looked up to see Denmark standing in the doorway to his hotel room, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. Norway smiled sadly and patted the empty spot on the bed, where he lay fully clothed. He had been staring at the ceiling for the many hours that had passed since the meeting, lost in thought. Denmark sat next to him, and was surprised when Norway immediately curled into him. He smiled sadly, curling his arm around the smaller man. Their relationship had always seemed a bit strained to most people, but when they were alone Norway allowed himself to loosen up. Denmark sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"We'll get him back , Norge."

"Who said I was worried?" Norway replied, and Denmark laughed.

"You can't fool me, Norge. I've known you too long for that."

Norway didn't say anything, but he rested his head on Denmark's shoulder and sighed deeply. They sat in silence for several minutes until Norway finally spoke again.

"Which of us do you think is next?"

"What?" Denmark frowned, turning his deep blue eyes downward. "Why would you think that? He won't get you, not while I'm still here to protect you."

Norway mumbled something under his breath, but didn't give any real response. Denmark turned completely grabbing the smaller shoulders.

"He's not going to get you, Norge. I won't let him."

"He's already got Tino, Den." Norway replied, but his voice was still soft. "The news from the east isn't so great either, from what I've heard. We can't stand up to him forever, he's too powerful."

"More like batshit crazy." Denmark replied, ruffling Norway's hair with a sad smile on his face. "But I said I'd protect you, right? Even that crazy motherfucker won't get you under my watch."

Norway didn't say anything as Denmark drew him to his chest, but he could feel the smaller man drawing in a shuddering breath. Finally, Norway whispered.

"I'm scared."

"I know you are." Denmark replied softly, hugging him tightly as the smaller nation trembled. "Hell, I am too, but that doesn't mean we're going to give up, Norge. We'll save Tino, and the others as well, and kill that bastard."

Norway just shook his head, but Denmark didn't comment on it and instead leaned back against the pillows, still holding the other nation to his chest. Norway just snuggled into his jacket, and it wasn't long before his shivers subsided and his breaths finally evened out into sleep. Denmark sighed, shutting his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. There was too much going on, what with Russia's forces pressing forward into not only Sweden and Norway, but even Iceland was being targeted. It seemed as if Russia was trying to hit everyone at once, and no one knew how he was getting all the forces and supplies to do so, but they seemed endless. Denmark sighed again, looking down at the slumbering man on his chest whom he had sworn to protect. He only hoped that would be enough.

oOoOoOo

A/N: Fail ending is fail, but I've made you wait long enough D: Sorry again! Next update soon-ish (and things start getting more interesting, I promise)

Bitte- Please (in German)


	21. 20: Where has my heart gone?

A/N: Chapter 20! Always feels like such an accomplishment :D

I'm soooo sorrryyyyy this is late! DX I love you guys, I swear, it's just…school, a-and life, a-and…I'M SORRY. *bows and begs for forgiveness*

The plot gets more epic now :D

oOoOoOo

"_Where has my heart gone?  
An uneven trade for the real world…  
Oh I, I want to go back to  
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…"_

oOoOoOo

South Korea was dead.

Japan had brought the news over early in the morning two days after the meeting. Everyone sat in stunned silence, and China, who he had brought with him, just stared silently at the table and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Both Asian countries looked worse for wear, and those few countries who weren't under direct attack were sending them aid. They tried to do the same for America, but the proud country had refused, saying it was too dangerous for anyone else to try and come into the country. Said nation was currently sitting down next to England, head down on the desk, but no one even thought of bothering him. His normally bright golden hair was messy and dull, and his glasses were resting by his loosely clenched hand. Canada was on his other side, frowning and staring at his brother. It had been decided that America would stay in Europe while Canada went back to North America to help drive Russia back. It would also implicate Canada in the war, but he insisted that he was alright with that. America had argued against it, but he also knew that he wasn't up for travel at that moment, and he hated it. He sighed, trying to lift his head to look at Japan as he spoke, but he couldn't lift it more than a few inches above his arms. Japan glanced over at him, deep brown eyes sombre and at the same time pitying.

"…we are sending over aid to the country of Korea, but we also have to keep a large amount of troops in our own countries. Without Im Young Soo, it will be very difficult to keep the country from going under."

"We would send troops if we could." England replied, but his voice also held a bit of pity toward the short nation who was standing next to him. Japan just shook his head, frowning grimly as he replied.

"You have your own people to worry about, England-san, as do the rest of you. However, we will give whatever aid we can in tracking down Ivan-san." He added resolutely, and America sighed, muttering.

"We have eight units already searching along the border of Russia and the surrounding countryside, with no sign of the grey van that was seen leaving the Italy's property."

"We also have people searching." Hungary said, her voice neutral but there was a hint of weariness in her voice that was echoed by the bags under her green eyes. She was sitting next to Prussia who nodded at her statement, and added.

"There hasn't been any sign of the van in any of the surrounding nations, which means they likely switched vehicles. Which makes them almost impossible to locate."

"Do you have someone watching Russia's house?"

"Of course." America grumbled, but the lack of actual annoyance in his voice was unnerving. "But no one has gone near in the last 72 hours. He won't go there, he's not that stupid."

"Just keep on eye on it." England sighed, rubbing his temples to try and combat his oncoming migraine. "It's like they vanished."

"You'd think with all our modern technology we'd be able to find him in no time." Canada said softly, and America made a face.

"I called Washington to request more units, but we're already stretched thin as it is." America said, lowering his head back into his arms.

"As are our people." Japan replied, glancing over at China for confirmation. "But we will do what we can to aid in the tracking of him."

"Thank you. Finding him should be our top priority for n-"

"But what about rescuing the others?"

England frowned at Romano who had spoken. The normally surly and loud-mouthed nation was sitting quietly, staring at his lap. There were bags under his hazel eyes and his mouth was stretched in a tight line, a far cry from his usual scowl.

"We will save them as well," England said slowly, "but capturing and stopping Russia is our prime objective."

"But what if he kills them while we dally in making plans to capture him?" Romano countered, but his voice wasn't rising. "We should just storm in the moment we find their location."

"We need to capture him alive, Romano." England countered, and Prussia stood up, slamming his hands down onto the table and snapping loudly.

"There's no way I'm letting that fucker live!"

"Prussia-"

"I agree with _bruder_." Germany said softly, and Hungary nodded.

"We should just kill him the moment we find him."

"That's not the right way to do things, Hungary. We are civilized nations, we don't just go off and shoot people."

"America did." Someone objected, and America's head shot up, blue eyes hard.

"That was different. He wasn't a nation."

"Exactly why we shouldn't kill him. At least give him a fair trial."

"But it's different for nations, England." Prussia interjected, red eyes narrowing. "He's already killed one, and he's holding Italy and the others captive. We can't just expect the bastard to give up without a fight, and if it comes down to that there's no way in hell I'm holding back."

Romano tuned them out as the argument swelled once again, and he noticed Germany doing the same. Both of them were thinking of any way to get Italy (and Spain, in Romano's case) as far away from Russia as possible. Romano was using his sources to track down the van that had taken his brother away, and he kept checking his phone for any updates. So far every message bore no news, though they had confirmed the van was heading toward the north. The only reason he hadn't told the gathered nations of the information was because he knew that they would want to take time to act once they discovered the exact location. It was better to just act on his own, though he knew he'd need help from someone else. He glanced around at the other nations that were keeping quiet-Hungary, Germany, China…all people who had been personally affected by the war so far. Germany was automatically out of the question, and he didn't know China too well. Hungary was a viable option but….well, he'd get to that once he got information. He flipped open his phone again-nothing-and then shut it again with a sigh. He hated waiting for anything, but sitting helpless while his brother was in the clutches of a mad-man was even worse. He frowned again and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at the bandage on his head. He caught Germany staring at him and glared, but it didn't have much heart to it. After all, they were both missing the same thing-the one they loved.

oOoOoOo

Finland woke up in an unfamiliar room, poorly lit and sparsely decorated. There was a bookshelf on the wall he was facing, and when he turned to look to his right he saw a large desk. Russia was sitting behind it, head bent as he looked at some papers, but when Finland gasped he looked up. Finland shivered as a smile spread across his face, and the childish voice said.

"Oh, you are awake finally!"

"R-Russia? Why am I here?" Finland asked immediately, and Russia's grin just widened.

"Because you will be useful to me, da? That is all."

"Y-you…"Finland shuddered, looking away from the cold violet eyes gazing at him as he whispered. "Are you going to kill me too?"

"What would the point of that be?" Russia asked, but the smile grew even colder. "You're too important a piece to kill off just yet."

Finland didn't know whether to be relieved or even more worried as Russia turned back to his documents. He was trembling, and he curled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Sweden was probably worried sick, he thought morosely. His "husband" really did worry too much, but he really wished the tall blonde was there with him right then. It was completely silent in the room until the door to his right swung open and Belarus walked in, a creepy grin on her face as she waved at him.

"Hello there, little Tino."

"_Privet, sestra." _Russia said, looking up from his papers once more. "Did you bring me news?"

"_Da_." She said, sighing, and Finland could've sworn there was a pout on her face. "It appears there are some members of the Italian mafia on our tail. They're tracking us as we speak."

"Italians?" Russia's face remained neutral, but Finland saw a scary glint in his eyes as Belarus nodded.

"Most likely that bastard Romano. They haven't tracked us all the way here yet, and I sent out some of our own after them, but they've gotten too close for comfort already."

"Take care of them, _sestra_." Russia ordered, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "I have something planned for him and those other idiots who have dared oppose me."

Finland's eyes opened wide, and Russia just grinned wider. Belarus smirked.

"Finally, Vanya. I thought you'd lost your drive."

"Of course not." Russia smirked, though it was a bit strained and the glint in his eyes was harsher. "Just head off, _sestra_."

"_Da_." Belarus bowed dramatically and with one last smirk Finland's direction she turned and flounced back out the door. After a long silence Finland's mouth opened and he blurted out without thinking.

"Wh-what are you going to do to them?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean your friends, _da?_" Russia chuckled darkly. "You will see. For now, I will have my little friend over here bring you down to your room. Veneziano, would you?"

Finland gasped loudly as Italy stepped out from the corner, and Finland's hands flew up to his mouth. The auburn-haired nation had a bandage covering one entire side of his face, and his eyes were bloodshot and there were deep bags under them. Italy tried to smile, but it was a shadow of its former brightness, and that made Finland begin trembling again.

"I-Italy…?"

"_Buongiorno_." Italy whispered, and when he shifted Finland could see another bandage peeking out from underneath the collar of his shirt. He gasped again.

"What happened?"

"He…" Italy looked back at Russia who had raised a pale eyebrow and finished in a murmur. "Nothing. Nothing happened."

"Take our young friend down to the other's. You can do that, _da?_"

Italy nodded, eyes downcast as he whispered.

"_Si."_

"Good. Come back when you're done."

Italy nodded again, walking forward slowly and holding out a hand to Finland, who was still crouched on the ground. He took the proffered hand, and a barely audible whisper reached his ears as he was pulled up.

"_Mi dispiace, _Tino…"

"Don't apologize." Finland whispered back, frowning grimly. "Italy…why…?"

"I don't want to do this…" Italy replied, leading him out the door and down the hallway as quickly as he could, but Finland noticed a slight limp as he walked and put his arm around the other nation as soon as they were out of sight. Italy smiled at him weakly. "Sorry…y-you don't have to help me, I'll be fine…"

"What in God's name has he done to you?" Finland asked, his brown eyes wide as he gaped at the once light-hearted nation. Italy just shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, Tino. All that matters is keeping you and the others safe until we can get you out of here."

"Italy…" Finland frowned deeply as he helped Italy down the stairs that led to the basement where Spain and France were being held. When they swung open the door both men looked up, their eyes going wide as they recognized the pair before them.

"Feli!" Spain was the first to recover, pushing himself to standing and walking over to them slowly. "Are you alright?"

"_Si_, I'm fine." Italy whispered softly. Spain watched him shuffling his feet, wincing slightly and reaching up to touch the bandage on his head.

"No you're not, Feli. _Dios mio_…" Spain shut his eyes wearily. "_Lo siento_, Feli…I should be protecting you from him."

"Ve, it's fine, _fratellone_ Spain." Italy replied as Finland let go of him, leaving him to sway before he leaned his entire weight on Spain. "I'm just a bit tired…"

"Why is he keeping you up there, _Italie_?" France asked, and Italy shook his head weakly.

"I don't know...b-but…" he began shaking in Spain's arms as he said in a shaking voice. "I'm so s-s-scared, _fratellone _France…s-s-so…."

"Shh, Feli, don't cry…" Spain murmured, frowning as he felt tears beginning to soak his shirt. "We'll get you out of here, I promise."

"B-but he said…i-i-i-if I try to r-run…he-he'll…he'll…"

"He threatened you?" There was a hard edge to France's voice, but Italy just shook his head again.

"N-no….n-n-not me…"

"Then who? _Italie_?" France said as Italy shook his head, refusing to answer. "_Italie_, _s'il te plait_, tell us what he's saying so we can help you."

"You can't help me…" Italy said in a barely audible voice, but he didn't make a move to push away from Spain as he added. "_Fratello_ has people looking for you. He's almost found us…b-but Russia's going to attack them…"

Spain gasped, looking down at the nation clutching his shirt.

"Lovi's looking for us?"

Italy nodded, but didn't say anything. Instead Finland, who had been all but forgotten, said.

"Belarus said that he has people fairly close to where we are now. But R-Russia is sending people out after them, and then...he's sending people after the other nations."

"All of them at once?" France asked, and Finland nodded.

"They're all in London. England called a world meeting just before I was taken…they'll all still be there as far as I know…"

"_Mierda._" Spain cursed, and he felt Italy's trembling increase. "We have to warn them."

"We can't." Finland whispered. "How would we get the word out?"

"We can't just give up." Spain protested. "With so many nations in one place….Russia would control the world if he managed to take them all out!"

"Besides, those are our friends." France agreed. "We can't just let them die like that."

"Then what do we do?"

"We could try Lithuania or one of the other Baltics."

"Surely Russia is watching them closely after Toris helped Italy escape." France said, and Italy finally lifted his head.

"They're our best bet. I…I'll ask them."

"_Italie_-!"

"I have to go back anyway, before…" Italy trailed off and then pushed away from Spain with a false smile. "I'll try to get the message out somehow. I won't…I won't let him hurt any of you."

They could do nothing but stare dumbly as Italy turned and walked away slowly, shutting the door behind him.

oOoOoOo

"Alfred?"

Canada knocked on the door to his brother's room, frowning when he received no response. He had come to find his brother when America didn't show up for the first part of the meeting. His brother may have been stupid, but he always at least made an effort to show up. But that morning the meeting had dragged on until lunch and still no sign of the American. Both England and Canada were very concerned for him, and so Canada had offered to go figure out where his stupid brother was. He sighed deeply and pulled out the key he'd gotten from England, sticking it in the lock and turning it. Then he swung the door open, peering around the doorframe, frown still creasing his face.

"Al?"

He held his breath, letting it out only when a loud snore met his ears. He'd been worried that his brother was…well, with the current situation, how was he not to worry? Even his brother sleeping in for so long was worrisome, and he stepped into the room quietly.

"Al, it's time to get up." He called out as loudly as he could (which wasn't very loud, honestly), but his brother still didn't stir. His frown deepened and he moved forward far more quickly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder and shaking it gently, but America only made a small pained noise in his sleep. Canada tried again, only this time even more gentle.

"Al, please get up."

After several minutes of shaking and a rapidly increasing heartbeat, America finally blinked open his blue eyes. Canada sighed in relief as America rubbed them sleepily, looking so much like a young child that it made Canada smile a bit.

"Nnn….Mattie?"

"Yes, it's me." He sighed again, but the faint smile was still gracing his lips. "You slept in."

"What…shit!" America groaned as he looked over at the clock, sitting up swiftly but regretting it as he winced. Canada immediately sat by him, frown back on his face as he put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I can tell them you're too injured to attend, Al. I'm sure Arthur and the others won't mind."

"No." America said firmly, pushing his brother's hands away as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, smile plastered on his face. "I'll be fine, Mattie…we should get going, yeah? I'm assuming Artie's pissed that I slept in so long…"

"He's not, Al-he's just worried. I am too." He added softly, but America just laughed loudly and clapped Canada's shoulder.

"Don't worry about me, li'l bro. I'm supposed to be the hero-"

"Don't." Canada snapped, and America blinked rapidly in surprise at the harsh tone as Canada continued. "Don't act like everything's fine when it isn't, and pretending you can do everything yourself, and stop trying to tell me I can't worry about my own god damn brother! Damn it, Alfred…"

"Matt?" America just watched as Canada put his head in his hands to hide the tears that had begun to fall from behind his glasses. He reached forward, putting his arms around his brother awkwardly. "Matt, I'm sorry…"

"Why can't you just let us help you for once, Al? You…you can't do it by yourself, not this time."

"I don't need your help, Mattie." America tried to tell him, but Canada just shook his head.

"You do, Al."

There was a long silence in which America continued to hug his brother until Canada's breaths slowed. He heaved a loud sigh, muttering.

"You're an idiot."

"I know." America replied as he pulled back, a sad smile on his face as he ruffled his brother's hair. "Let me get dressed and then we'll go back down to grumpy old Iggy, 'kay?"

"Do you need help?" Canada asked, but America just laughed.

"Nope! I'll be out in a minute!"

Canada hesitated, but finally nodded and, shooting his brother one last stern look, turned and stepped out into the hallway. He stood right next to the door, eyes squeezed tight and hands over his ears to block out the sound of the painful, hacking coughs and whimpers coming from the room behind him. When America stepped out of the room, however, he looked like his usual self, and all the bandages he'd had on before were exchanged for new ones, and the careless, lopsided grin on his face told nothing of the pain he surely felt. Canada chose to remain silent, however, and simply followed his now chattering brother down the stairs toward the meeting room. On their way there he saw another latecomer just walking in behind them. Canada blinked in surprise.

"Romano? Were you at the meeting earlier?"

Romano jumped when he was addressed, looking up through his bangs at the North American nation. He shook his head in reply, wayward curl seeming to droop.

"I just slept in a bit."

"You could have stayed in your room if you're unwell, Romano." Canada said, frowning as he took in the other's appearance. There were deep bags under his hazel eyes, and even under the collar of his stylish suit it was easy to see the bandages from his not-quite healed wounds. Romano just sighed, however, and shook his head stubbornly.

"I'm fine. Damn it." He added, almost as an afterthought. He pushed past them and walked into the meeting room, where all the other nations had already gathered once more. Canada and America followed him, and when the latter walked in England looked up, green eyes widening and filling with relief.

"Alfred! Are you alright?"

"Of course I am, silly Iggy!" America said boisterously, laughing. "I just slept in, no big!"

England looked as if he were about to refute the claim, but then thought better of it as America went to sit by his "father's" side. Canada trailed after him, frown still on his face. Romano had already sat down by Germany-something that would have been unheard of before the War. But things had changed, and now they shared something in common. Even as the meeting began again Canada noticed Romano pulling out his phone several times to check something, and then each time closing it with a deep scowl of annoyance. He raised his eyebrows but, in true Canada fashion, didn't ask what was going on.

oOoOoOo

Hungary opened the door to her hotel room, sighing deeply as she flung her folder onto the side table. She yawned, pulling the ribbon out of her hair that had kept it up in a tight bun for practicality's sake. The meeting had run well into the night and she was exhausted, but somehow, even when she changed into her nightgown and finally flopped onto the bed, sleep would not come. She stared at the dull ceiling, trying to clear her mind, but she found it impossible. It kept turning to those things she wanted to think of least-the war, the captive nations, and most of all…

_Roderich…._

She shut her eyes and drew in a long, shuddering breath and then let it out in a sigh. She had been trying so hard to bust herself enough that she wouldn't think about it, and so far it had been easy to do with the war and everything, but when she was all alone...her mind kept turning to the sound of his agonized voice through the crackling speakerphone, and the gut-wrenching sight of his mangled body…she felt her stomach churn again, and hot tears built up in her eyes. She forced them back, breathing deeply to calm herself down. It wouldn't do to work herself up again-

A quiet knock on the door startled her and she sat up swiftly, scrubbing at her eyes as she called out.

"Coming!"

She heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the door and when she opened it she was surprised to see Prussia standing there, a big grin on his face that turned to a frown when he saw her face. He reached up and touched her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't even noticed.

"Crying again?" He asked softly, and she shook her head.

"No…what are you doing here, Gilbert?"

"I came to see you." He replied bluntly. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." She said calmly, walking back toward her bed. She only made it a few feet before she felt a strong pair of arms wrapping around her waist as her pulled her into a tight hug. He sighed deeply, muttering.

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you apologizing to me?" She asked, confused, and he sighed again.

"You're sad, and lonely. I should be at your side, like a good friend would."

"You have your own matters to deal with, Gil." She replied, but she didn't make any moves to escape his warm embrace. He laughed sombrely.

"It is a bit crazy, being an actual nation again. But I can always make time for you, Eli."

"That sounds like one of those lines from a corny romance film." She snorted, but she felt a smile making its way to her face. "We should get to bed, Gil. We have another meeting in the morning."

"Looks like you were failing in that respect." Prussia commented, and she turned around to glare at him.

"Shut up. I was doing fine by myself."

"Of course you were." He laughed, steering her toward the bed. "I'll tuck you in, okay?"

"What about you? You need your sleep too." She scolded, but he just laughed carelessly as he lifted her up onto the bed despite her protests.

"I'll take the chair, Eli. You just settle in and get some shut eye. I'll be here."

She muttered something unintelligible and he leaned closer, smirking.

"What was that?"

"I said 'lie down now before I pull out my frying pan and knock you out myself'." She grumbled louder, but her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. He grinned as she turned and covered herself with the blanket, curling up underneath it. Prussia laid down right beside her, being careful not to lay too close just in case she changed her mind. However, after a few minutes she scooted closer and closer, until she was resting with her head on his chest and her legs curled up. He blinked in surprise, but didn't protest as he let his hand rest on her shoulder, sighing.

"Liz…"

"I'm just cold." She muttered. "That's all."

"I'm sure." He replied softly, but she just shifted closer, breath evening out as she finally fell asleep. He watched her snoring softly, a wan smile on his face. They had been through so much over the centuries, but somehow they had found a sort of peace with each other, despite everything. He let his own eyes finally drift shut, smile still on his face as he drifted off into a deep sleep filled with dreams of days gone by…

oOoOoOo

The phone call came only a few hours later, startling Hungary from her rest. She sat up, unwrapping herself from Prussia's arms. As he slept he had drawn her even closer, until he was wrapped around her like a mother cradling a child. She smiled, but it turned to a frown as the phone rang again. She got out of the bed, careful not to awaken her bed mate, who was snoring loudly. The phone rang yet again and she finally picked it, saying quietly.

"_Szia_, this is Elizabeta speaking."

"_Privet_."

She froze, the phone almost dropping from her hand in shock. When she finally regained the ability to speak she gasped out.

"Ivan! Wh-what do you want?"

"_Just to hear your voice. It's been a long time since the union was dissolved, da?"_

"What do you want?" Hungary repeated, trying and failing to keep the tremor of fear from her voice. But that wasn't the only thing tinting her voice-there was also a deep anger, one she dared not show because she knew it would only provoke him. He giggled darkly.

"_I wanted you to know what I was planning for you. Though, of course, there is always the option to become one with me again and we can avoid all this useless killing, da?_"

"Never!" She hissed, knuckles turning white as she gripped the phone with all her might. "I will never join you, Ivan."

"_You still call me by my first name, Elizabeta_." He purred, and she felt a shiver run up her spine.

"Th-that's because-no, that's not important now. If you have nothing else to say I'm going to hang up-"

"_How is dear Gilbert doing_?"

Hungary froze at the innocent-sounding question, but she knew what he implied. Her voice when she spoke again was low and filled with anger.

"He's fine, and you will stay away from him-"

"_You're in no position to make demands, Elizabeta_." He replied coolly, but his tone was still light. "_Need I remind you of what happened back in those wonderful days, when we were all together…?_"

Hungary shuddered involuntarily, not wanting to think about that awful time, when both she and Prussia (and several other nations) had been under Russia's control in the Soviet Union. The things that had happened then…she had been trying to block them from her mind for decades, but sometimes they rose to her mind unbidden. Back then, he had been completely in control, and he loved to show it. She still bore the scars from then and her subsequent revolution, and she knew Prussia did too.

"I…please." She hated begging, but she was desperate, had nothing left. "Please, don't hurt him, or the others…"

"_You mean like little Italy_?" Russia sounded amused, and Hungary's voice rose both in pitch and in level.

"Especially him. Please, Ivan…don't you have any heart left? You're…you're killing your own kind!"

"_I'm well aware of that."_ Russia replied coolly, but she knew she'd made a mistake when she heard the dangerous edge to his voice. "_I told you that I would get all of you back. I'm just taking….interest, you could say, da?"_

Hungary had to close her mouth in a firm line to stop herself from shouting, heart skipping a beat. He made it sound like there would be more, that that was only the beginning….and that terrified her and yet angered her at the same time. He was acting like it was no big deal, like killing off nations was just something to pass the time, and that alone made her stomach curdle with fury. Russia just chuckled darkly again.

"_Well, I just thought I would try one last time. I would say see you later, but, well…you'll see tomorrow, I suppose. __Do svidaniya, Elizabeta."_

"What do you mean? Ivan?" Hungary said, then yelled. "What do you mean, 'tomorrow'?"

"_You'll just have to find out, now won't you?"_

"Tell me, Ivan! IVAN!"

She cursed loudly as the dial tone rang out, shutting her phone with a snap and throwing it against the wall angrily. She didn't notice that her cries had awoken Prussia until he was already behind her, arms wrapping around her once again as he asked with a very concerned tone of voice.

"Liz? What happened?"

"N-nothing…" She replied, but she was trembling in his grasp. His scarlet eyes widened and he turned her around so he could look into her olive eyes.

"I heard you yelling, and then you threw your phone. Who called?"

"N-no one…" she wasn't entirely sure why she didn't want to tell him, but somehow she wanted to avoid him knowing Russia had contacted her. However, just thinking about him again made her shivering increase and Prussia hugged her again, sighing.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But…you know I'm here for you, Liz. I'll always be here for you."

"…that was corny."

Hungary surprised herself by giggling, albeit a bit hysterically. Prussia just pouted, but then the sides of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"I was being serious, _Süße_."

"I know you were. Thank you, Gil." She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder wearily. She had gotten barely any sleep and was still exhausted, but she was almost afraid to go to sleep, afraid for tomorrow to come…but despite everything she found herself drifting off on Prussia's shoulder. She vaguely remembered being ushered back into the bed before she finally drifted off into an unpleasant sleep of fire and cold laughter.

oOoOoOo

A/N: I really need a language beta….

Privet- Hello (in Russian)

Sestra-Sister (in Russian)

Dios mio- My God (in Spanish)

Fratellone- older brother (in Italian)

Lo siento- I'm sorry (in Spanish)

Mierda- Shit (explative, in Spanish)


	22. 21:Only Kiss Your Shadow

A/N: So I'm done with school which means more time for writing :D Sorry for all the delays, but you know, real life and junk…*sighs*

I can't thank you guys enough for your support. Seriously, the amount of views and reviews just amazes me (I've never gotten much support before OuO). You guys are awesome, and keep on reviewing!

oOoOoOo

"_And how the room is softly faded;__  
__And I only kiss your shadow,__  
__I cannot feel your hand-__  
__You're a stranger now unto me…__  
__Lost in the dangling conversation,__  
__And the superficial sighs…__  
__In the borders of our lives…."_

oOoOoOo

Everyone looked half-awake when the meeting began the next morning. America had woken up on time, but he looked even worse than the previous day, if that was even possible. He was currently sleeping, but England didn't even say anything as they discussed any new information, though honestly there wasn't much to discuss. They were no closer to finding the location of Russia and the other nations, though Romano was in constant contact with his men, waiting for word on whether they'd successfully tracked them down. He had a plane prepared for the moment he heard anything, and he was planning on taking off the very moment he did. He wasn't even paying attention to what England was saying until there was a strange noise that seemed to fill the room. Everyone grew silent, and England raised his large eyebrows and muttered.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

Hungary stood up from her seat, green eyes wide as she thought about what Russia had said the night before. When she looked out the window she saw nothing at first, but then…

"Liz!" Prussia cried as the window shattered, showering her with glass. She flung her arms up to protect her face, lowering them only after Prussia had tugged her back, and most of the nations had stood up as well as they stared out at the sky and the planes that had begun to lower below the clouds, and they watched in horror as bombs dropped from their bellies. England stared in horror as the bombs dropped down on his precious city, until someone had the presence of mind to yell "Get down!" and all of the nations scrambled for cover as the bombs hit. Canada pulled his brother down with him, trying to be as careful as he could but they only barely made it in time as the entire building shook with the first impact, and Canada covered his brother protectively, and many other nations did the same with their own friends and family. Iceland was clinging to Norway, and Denmark was right beside them trying to shield them from the debris showering in from the window. When the first wave had ended they all looked up cautiously, checking each other for injury. No one had sustained more than a bruise here or there, but they knew it wasn't over. England swore and then stood up, yelling.

"Everyone get to shelter!"

"They're aiming for us-we should split up!" America said loudly, and Canada nodded.

"Al's right-they seem to have been aiming for this area specifically, which means they know we're here. If we stay together we'll be easier to take out."

Several people nodded, some already making their way out of the room in a mad scramble as they heard the constant drone of the planes above them. Canada helped his brother up and steered him out of the room, England following. Soon enough there were only four nations remaining-Germany, Prussia, Hungary, and Romano. The latter was just about to leave the room when his phone went off, startling the others. He muttered an apology as he flipped it open, putting it to his ear as he snapped, voice shaking.

"This better be fucking important-!"

"_Boss, we have the location!"_

Romano froze, hazel eyes going wide as he nearly screamed into the phone.

"_Cosa? _Are you sure?"

"_Sì, we have just determined their exact location. We have confirmed sightings of Signore Laurinaitis and Signore Galante. Would you like us to head in and secure the hostages?"_

"No, don't do anything. In fact, get your men out of there now." Romano said in a rushed voice, its pitch rising by the second. "Send me the GPS location now then get the hell out of there, okay?"

"_Sì, signore." _The man on the other end of the line said, and then the line cut off. Romano stood there for a long moment before taking off down the hallway as fast as he could. He had almost made it out of the building when he heard someone calling his name and he slowed his pace, looking over his shoulder to find Hungary running after him, face set and grim. He frowned and snapped.

"What do you want? I'm in a hurry-!"

"I want to come with you."

"What?"

Romano gaped at her, but she just sighed and repeated.

"I want to go with you. You found out where they are right?"

"How did you-?"

"I'm not stupid, Romano." She cut in. "You'll need help if you're going to save your brother and the others. I'm willing to go with you."

"Why?" He asked, still rather confused. He and Hungary had never been very close (after all, she had been married to the bastard that kept his brother from him when they were young), but it wasn't like they were enemies. She just smiled wearily and replied.

"Because I want to help you save them before it's too late. I don't…I don't want any more nations to die the way Roderich did."

He opened his mouth to reply when a shout came from down the hall and Hungary turned. Prussia was running toward them, red eyes wide when he spotted the two of them.

"What the hell are you doing, Liz? You need to get to shelter before they start again."

"I'm going."

Prussia skidded to a halt right in front of her, eyes widening even more as he yelled.

"What the hell are you saying? Where the hell would you be going in the middle of a fucking air raid?"

"Romano knows Ivan's location, so we're going after him."

"By yourselves?" Prussia gaped, and she sighed, looking deep into his eyes to see the worry filling them.

"Gilbert, we need to go now. We can't sit by and let him hurt them again when we know exactly where they are."

"Let me come with you, then!" Prussia begged, but Hungary shook her head.

"They need you here, Gil." She smiled sadly. "I'll be fine, okay? I promise I'll bring your friends back to you."

"But Liz-!"

"I'll be back before you know it." She reached forward and hugged him tightly, and then turned and walked away quickly. Romano had already begun walking again, jaw set determinedly. But as Hungary got closer, ignoring the shouts behind her, she saw his shoulders shaking with suppressed emotion as they exited the building and headed toward his car. When they got there, however, he was having trouble getting his trembling fingers to stick the key in the lock. Hungary held out her hand, smiling.

"Let me drive."

Romano blinked several times, but then nodded, handing over the keys and moving over to the passenger side, flinging open the door the moment it was unlocked and flinging himself in. Hungary moved as quickly as she could, starting the car and backing out of the spot in seconds. They rushed out of the parking lot just as the next wave came through, but Hungary just gritted her teeth and refused to stop even as the car shook as the bombs impacted mere kilometers from them. Romano's hands were resting on top of his thighs, clutched into fists, as he gazed stoically out the window as the ruined landscape passed them by…

oOoOoOo

"What happened now?"

Lithuania sighed as he used a rag to clean the blood off Italy's leg from the newest wound Russia had inflicted. Italy just smiled shakily and said.

"I tried to bring food down to the others, but he told me explicitly not to."

"Then why did you do it?" Lithuania shook his head, sighing again. "Russia is not a man to be tested, Italy. You should have learned that by now."

"I do know tha-ow!" Italy whimpered as he pressed the cloth down just a little too hard.

"Sorry. But really, Italy, that was rather stupid of you."

"I know, but I won't let him starve them while I just sit back and do nothing. That what I've always done." He added in a whisper. "And I won't be like that anymore. I won't cause them trouble anymore."

"They don't want you to get hurt either, Italy." Lithuania whispered back, pulling some bandages out of the first aid kit he used far too frequently. Italy just smiled, though, and said softly.

"It's alright. A-anyway, have you heard anything about the attack on London?"

"It's already happened. I tried contacting Feliks, but…" Lithuania sighed wearily. "Russia has my phone, and I can't get the word out. I hope they're alright…"

"Me too." Italy whispered, wringing his hands nervously. "I-I'm really worried…L-Ludwig is there too, and f-fratello…ah…"

Italy scrubbed at his eyes when he realized he was crying, and Lithuania looked up at him, eyes full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry. If there was any way to warn them in time…"

"What if they d-die, Toris?"

"Don't think like that, Italy." Lithuania warned him, sighing, but he tried to smile reassuringly. "They're not stupid, they'll find a way to protect themselves."

"B-but Russia-!"

"Italy, please." Lithuania began wrapping the bandages around the still bleeding wound on the other's leg. "Have confidence in them, okay? Our friends will be fine."

"I…I'm still worried though." Italy winced and whimpered again as Lithuania pulled the bandages taut. He opened his mouth to apologize but Italy shook his head. "Ve, it's f-fine, just do it quickly…It only hurts a little…"

"Are you sure?" Lithuania asked, and Italy nodded tightly. Lithuania did as he was asked, tying the bandage up in a few minutes. When he was done Italy immediately stood up, and he blinked in surprise. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I-I'm going to see if R-Russia knows anything."

"What? No, Italy, that's a horrible idea!" Lithuania grabbed his arm, pulling it away when he saw Italy wince. "Sorry! But really, Italy, you shouldn't be around him unless you really have to. What if he hurts you again?"

"But I really want to know what happened." Italy said quietly, but his lower lip was trembling. Lithuania shook his head, putting his hands on Italy's shoulders gently and looking directly into his eyes.

"Russia isn't a man to be trifled with, Italy! You…you've seen what he can do when you upset him. You don't understand how bad he's gotten-!"

"Veneziano!"

Italy flinched as Russia's voice rang out from up the stairs, backing away from Lithuania and walking out of the room. Lithuania watched him limp away slowly, frowning sadly as Italy tried to keep the weight off his injured leg, where he could see the blood already seeping through the bandages. He sighed, shaking his head wearily as he cleaned up the blood and supplies from the floor, trying not to think of the young nation who was going up to meet with his sovereign nation.

oOoOoOo

"You sure this is the right city?"

Romano nodded, glancing around furtively as he stalked down the streets of a small city in southern Siberia. It was mainly deserted, but there was a large house in the center of the city that his men had seen the Baltics entering the day before. Hungary frowned, staring at the building as she followed him.

"I can see several men hiding in various places around the house, Romano. It would be really hard to get in there with just the two of us. Why did you send your men away? They would have come in very handy."

"They would have just gotten in the way." Romano retorted, frowning. "We can do this ourselves."

"Are you sure?" Hungary said, and he nodded in determination, hands clenching into fists.

"I won't let him hurt them any longer. I will get them out of there."

"How exactly do you plan on doing that, Romano? This is Russia we're talking about, he-well, he may be insane, but he hasn't completely lost all sense. He knows we're coming."

"He probably thinks we're still in London." Romano countered, Hazel eyes narrowing as they finally stopped at the cross street to the side of the house. He glared at it, trying to look into the windows, only to find every window in the house shuttered. He swore and moved forward, but Hungary reached out to stop him.

"Wait. We need a plan, or we're just going to end up being captured like they were."

"Every minute we leave them with him is a minute he can decide to kill them, Hungary. We don't have the luxury of time."

Hungary frowned but she knew it wasn't worth arguing. That and, well, she quite frankly didn't blame him for wanting to storm in there and beat the living daylights out of Russia. Mostly because she wouldn't hesitate to join in, considering the second she saw his face she knew she wouldn't be able to control her anger. She glanced over at Romano who was glaring up at the building, and she saw his eyes widening as he gasped and grabbed her arm.

"I see an open window!"

"Where?"

"Upper floor, two from the right on the side of the building. Come on, we have to get closer." He pulled her out onto the main road, walking swiftly to the side of the house and getting as close as he dared, trying to make it look casual but his gaze was locked on the one un-shuttered window. She followed, tugging her arm out of his grasp as he looked up through the glass into the dimly lit room. They both sat there watching until someone walked into view and Romano gasped loudly, hazel eyes wide.

"_Fratello!" _

Hungary frowned as the figure moved right in front of the window, back turned to them, but there was no mistaking who it was. The fading sunlight caused the auburn locks to flash copper, and Romano could see the shite bandage on his brother's head quite clearly even from the distance. He gritted his teeth and growled.

"Bastard hurt him again….I'm going to fucking kill him."

Hungary nodded in silent agreement , knowing the anger he felt. After all, she too hated seeing the younger nation covered in such injuries, but at least he was alive.

_For now_, she added bitterly in her head as she watched the older of the brothers clenching his fists again and glare up at the window. She heard him grumbling under his breath.

"Come on, you idiot…just turn around, damn it! Come on, stupid _fratello_, just turn around, look out here…damn it!"

"We can't sit out here, Romano, the guards are getting suspicious. We need to go find a place to stay so we can figure out a way to get them out of this place."

Romano shook his head stubbornly, continuing to gaze up at the window. Italy was still standing in front of the window, and Romano could see a shadow in front of his brother, one that loomed over him. He ground his teeth as he watched the shadow continue to move, pacing in front of his brother, and finally Italy turned slightly, and they could see his eyes widening from their place in the streets as he caught sight of them. Romano opened his mouth without thinking, but Hungary put her hand over it to stifle his yell.

"Idiot!" She hissed as Italy stared down at them, frozen. "If you call out Ivan will find us."

Romano just glared at her, then turned his gaze back to his brother. They locked eyes and Hungary swore they were somehow communicating without even speaking, though she knew it was impossible. After a long moment Italy shook his head, turning away from the window, but she could see the reluctance as he did so. When he turned back to look at them again she saw the shadow behind him stopping and swore, grabbing Romano and tearing down the street, only looking over her shoulder once to see Italy being pushed aside and someone else stepping up to the window. She didn't have to keep looking to know who it was, but thankfully they were long gone by the time his cool gaze swept the street. She could have sworn, though, that she still felt it as their feet pounded on the pavement in their desperate flight…

oOoOoOo

"What are you looking at? Surely there isn't anything so interesting out there that you would ignore me, _da_?"

Italy jumped as Russia spoke, forcing his gaze away from the window. When he had looked out and seen his brother standing on the road his heart had skipped a beat, and it was still beating fast in a mixture of joy and fear for Romano. He couldn't tell who was standing behind him, but he didn't dare look again. Russia wasn't stupid, however, and he stepped forward toward the window.

"What's out there? Something interesting?"

"N-no, just s-something caught my e-e-eye." Italy said nervously, turning to check and almost sighed in relief as he saw his brother turning around the corner at a run. He held his breath as Russia looked out the window, cool violet eyes scanning the street below, but Italy was relieved when his mouth twitched in frustration. When he turned to glare at him, however, his heart sped up again and he backed up a step without thinking as Russia pulled the shutters closed behind him and stepped forward.

"Don't let me catch you looking out there again with that silly expression like a little puppy waiting for its owner. No one's coming to save you, little Italy. You're on your own now."

Italy shook his head but bit his lip so he wouldn't reply, not wanting to make things worse than they already were. After all, if his brother was in the city that meant the others could escape, if he got them out of there. He glanced down at his bandaged leg, frowning miserably. There was no way he was going to be able to do anything more than hobble for at least a few weeks, but there was no guarantee Romano would still be around then. He had to plan the escape quickly, possibly within the next few days, if not sooner, or the others wouldn't last. He bit his lip again nervously and whispered.

"May I go now?"

Russia regarded him coolly but nodded, and Italy bowed slightly and skittered away as fast as he could, though he was limping horribly and quite frankly he wasn't going much faster than a slow walk by the time he made it into the hall. He finally had to stop after only a few meters, leaning against the wall with his eyes screwed shut as he leaned all his weight on his uninjured leg. There were tears at the corners of his eyes once again from the pain, but he tried to force them back. It wasn't the time for crying-it was time to step up and be a responsible nation, to make up for all those years everyone else had taken care of him. After all, he knew that so much of this was his fault, his cowardice that had gotten so many of the others into the mess. The least he could do is make it up to them by saving the ones he could, and then…well, he wouldn't go so far as to say he would defeat Russia. He took a shuddering breath, shaking his head somberly. There was no way he could go up against Russia himself, but with everyone else they just might stand a chance. He pushed off the wall, swaying slightly as he balanced on his good leg. He drew in another deep breath and gritted his teeth as he limped down the hallway toward the stairs. After almost ten whole minutes he finally made his way down to where Spain, France, and Finland were still being held. When he finally opened the door he was panting from the effort and had to lean against the wall once more. Spain and Finland were immediately at his side, the former's green eyes full of concern.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you again?"

"_F-fratello…_ he-he's…he's…"

"Lovi?" Spain's eyes widened, and Italy nodded, taking a deep breath again to calm himself enough to speak.

"He's here…I-I saw him, he's in the city…"

"¿_Qué?" _Spain gripped his shoulders, eyes widening even more and Italy could see the sudden glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Lovi's come to get us?"

"Maybe." Italy whispered, but he lowered his eyes. "He saw me in the window, so he knows we're here..."

"That's great!" Spain grinned and laughed, but even Italy could hear it was still strained. "If Lovi's come then we're good as saved! He won't let us down, Veneziano, I know he won't!"

"He has Hungary with him too." Italy told them, and Finland raised his eyebrows.

"Miss Hungary? Why are they working together?"

"I-I don't know, but I'm s-sure they've come to rescue us…" Italy said softly, and Spain laughed his abnormally strained laugh again.

"Of course they have! Don't you worry, Veneziano, he'll get us out of here in no time!"

"B-but what about Russia? H-he'll….he'll hurt th-them, and I-I-I don't want him to hurt _fratello_ a-again…"

"We won't let him, _petit _Feli." France assured him quietly, still sitting against the wall, but he was smiling when Italy looked over, amber eyes blurred with tears. "We'll get out of here, and we won't let that bastard hurt you ever again."

Italy just shook his head, leaning his head onto Spain's chest wearily. He didn't want them to be worried about him when they were in a much worse position at that moment, and they were the ones who needed to be saved right away. After all, Russia knew Italy couldn't run away, not when he held so much over his head. He whimpered as he inadvertently leaned weight on his injured leg, and Spain looped his arms around the smaller body to help him balance. He frowned as Italy shivered, glancing around for something to put over his shoulders, but they had nothing. Which Russia had done on purpose of course, but he sighed as Italy shivered again. Spain pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him even tighter to warm the other nation up. In only a few minutes Italy's breaths evened out and he slumped entirely in Spain's grasp. Finland frowned, helping Spain lower the small nation to the ground, head still leaning on the other nation's chest. Spain stared at him, trying to keep his eyes from watering at the sight as Italy clutched at his shirt in his sleep, looking like such a small child. Finland sat by his side, and after several minutes his head drooped onto his shoulder, and France on his other side did the same. By the time Spain finally drifted off himself they were all huddled together, seeking what sanctuary they could in that dark basement. He drifted off to dreams filled with sunshine and a smiling brunette…

oOoOoOo

"Arthur!"

England looked over his shoulder to see who had called his name, small handgun still pointed at the Russians that had begun filling his precious city. America was heading toward him, supported by his brother, both looking as well as expected in their current situation. He sighed deeply in relief.

"Alfred, you're alright."

"Of course I am." America replied cockily, but his voice was weak and the effect was lost. "Everyone else is heading toward those old bomb shelters in the underground. Come on!"

"But-my city-I need to-!"

"It's too dangerous here, Iggy!" America said, grabbing his arm, though his other was still looped around his twin's waist. Canada nodded, though he was looking at his brother when he spoke.

"He's right, Arthur. It's too dangerous for us to be up here right now-we need to go underground and regroup."

"But-"

They all silenced as the building beside them exploded, and they all flung themselves to the ground, America trying to cover both of them as pieces of it showered around them. America tried to stand up to run away, but he had already worn himself out in the past four hours of fighting (had it really been that long?), and it didn't help that Russia was attacking his own country at the same time. He still had no idea where Russia was getting all the troops and supplies from, because as far as they knew he was fighting in his country, England, several of the Asian nations, and the nations bordering his own. America let his head sink back down wearily, exhausted and his entire body aching. Canada, having been by his side since the attack started, helped him up, and he knew England was frowning without looking as he said.

"Has it been like this the whole time?"

"Y-yes." Canada replied meekly, looping his brother's arm around his shoulders and helping him to his feet even though America was basically a dead weight at that point. "He hasn't been doing well, Arthur. But h-he wanted to find you, to make sure you were okay…"

"Idiot…" England grumbled, and he heard America snort quietly.

"'s not that bad, Mattie."

"Just shut up, Al." Canada grumbled without hostility as his brother leaned his head onto his shoulder. "Come on, Arthur, let's get going and get him to the shelter. Is there and entrance to the underground near here?"

England nodded, pointing off to their right, but before they even made it another block they were hailed by a loud and frantic voice, and when they turned around they saw Denmark heading toward them, panting.

"Have you seen Norway?" He asked, skidding to a halt, but both Canada and England shook their heads, frowning.

"I haven't seen any other nations for at least an hour now." England said, and Denmark swore loudly, running a hand through his hair causing it to stick up even more than it normally did. He looked mostly unharmed, though there was one long cut on his right arm that was bleeding sluggishly. But he didn't seem to have even noticed that, eyes darting back and forth along the street as he growled.

"I lost him a while back, but I heard someone saying they saw Belarus around."

"B-Belarus?" Canada shuddered, and America made a small noise.

"She's here?"

"That's what I heard from Belgium and Netherlands…passed 'em a few blocks back."

"Shit." America whispered, and Denmark nodded.

"I need to find him before she does. He's one of the only ones unaccounted for right now."

He ran off without another word, and the others watched him leave. When he was gone from sight Canada cleared his throat and whispered.

"We need to get underground, Arthur. Especially if she's out here."

"R-right." England turned his gaze back to the North American brothers, one seemingly completely out of it now, the other staring at him with wide blue-violet eyes and a serious set to his jaw. He nodded and began leading them toward the closest underground entrance, trying not to look at the bodies and crumbling buildings around him, at his once-beautiful city now crushed once again…

oOoOoOo

A/N: Fail ending is fail . Sorry guys! I promise it'll get better! And quicker updates!


	23. 22: My New Salvation

A/N: Back to a more regular update schedule! :D

Thank you guys once again for your support and reviews! I would never have gotten this far without you!

And now back to the action!

oOoOoOo

"_Looked in my heart but my heart was empty;__  
__Looked to the ground, but the road was long;__  
__But now I've found my new salvation;__  
__It's so new the old one's young…"_

oOoOoOo

"Bitch!"

Denmark was gasping for air, pinned against the wall of what had once been England's treasured house of Parliament. Belarus just smirked wickedly, her deep blue eyes glancing behind her at the other nation behind her, barely breathing. Norway was gazing up at Denmark through hooded eyes, barely clinging onto life but holding on just for him. But Denmark knew that wasn't going to last long, and he felt his anger boiling as more blood seeped from the blood on his lover's back to join the fairly large pool around him. He had found Norway fighting against the crazy female, already bleeding from several cuts to his upper body and struggling against her as she just laughed and laughed….Denmark shuddered as she did it again, but he let his anger override his fear. After all, she had hurt his dear Norge, and she was going to pay. Norway just blinked up at him slowly, shaking his head.

"Den…don't…"

"I'll help…you in a….sec." Denmark said with a grin, even though Belarus was pressing her arm against his neck even tighter, pulling out one of her trusty knives and placing it to his neck.

"Shut up. I told you to tell me where all the others have run off to."

"And I ain't answerin'." Denmark growled and she pressed the knife in so that it nicked the flesh, a trickle of blood running down his neck, but he just gritted his teeth and glared as she spoke.

"Your boyfriend over there is good as dead, and you'll be next. I'm not a very patient person, Denmark."

"Really? Couldn't tell, dear." She growled ferociously and dug the "knife in deeper, cutting off anything else he was about to say. "Tell me where they are! Vanya wants all of you dead so we can take your land."

"We?" Denamrk laughed, though it turned into a choked, gurgling chuckle. "Y'think he's gonna…share? You're more…crazy than we thought…"

She hissed, shoving him to the side angrily, and he winced as his back scraped against the brick wall. She stormed over again, stepping on his chest and shoving him back to the ground.

"My brother loves me, and we will rule this whole world together."

"Crazy…Bitch." He choked out, and she screeched, pointing her knife down at him.

"You're going to regret that. Hope you've said your prayers, Denmark, because this is the last night you'll ever see…"

oOoOoOo

Spain was jolted awake by a loud crash, the sound of an explosion and a rumble that shook the very foundations of the building they were housed in. He heard a gasp from his side as France also sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What was that?"

"Something's going on up there."

They both looked at Finland who looked fully awake and was staring at the ceiling as dust poured down on them in the aftermath of whatever had happened above them. Spain blinked rapidly, and then looked down at his lap. Italy had disappeared sometime during the night, and France frowned when he noticed as well.

"He must have gone back to Russia while we slept."

"He left only about an hour ago, actually." Finland informed them, sighing, but his brown eyes never stopped gazing at the ceiling above them as if he thought it would crash around them at any moment. _Which it might_, Spain thought as another explosion rattled the house.

"Did he say anything?" he asked, keeping his tone light, and Finland nodded.

"Just that he was very sorry, and that he'd try to get us out as best he could. I told him to not worry about it but, well…" he sighed again, and France just snorted.

"He won't listen, of course. He's so pig headed sometimes."

"He's just trying to help as much as he can." Spain countered sadly. "He thinks most of this is his fault, somehow. Or at least that's what I gathered."

"Not as naïve as you seem, are you?" France said, and Spain just laughed weakly.

"Oh, not really. I know I'm a clueless idiot most of the time, as Lovi never wastes any time telling me, but…well, he's just like his brother sometimes." He shrugged. "I guess you can say I've learned how he feels somewhat."

"That and your little tomato's ranting about him, I'm sure." France replied, and Spain just nodded as another rumble went through the house and they could hear some muffled shouting from above them, and the pounding of heavy footsteps. All of their gazes were on the ceiling now as they waited.

It seemed like forever when the door finally banged open, startling them. Spain immediately stood up in front of the others, but then he saw the head of auburn hair as Italy stumbled into the room. He blinked up at them, coughing slightly as he tried to smile.

"H-hey…you guys ready t-t-to get out?"

"What?" Finland gasped. "Did you do this?"

"No." Italy laughed sadly. "No, th-this isn't my doing….I think it's _f-fratello_, but I'm not sure. Th-they were speaking Italian, though, so…"

"It's probably him, then." Spain said, smiling as he walked over to put his arm around Italy's shoulder. "Well, let's get out of here then, shall we? I'm sure he's wondering what's taking us so long."

"R-right." Italy nodded, whispering as he gestured to France who was still sitting on the floor. "Tino, c-could you help him up? We need to move q-quickly."

Finland nodded, helping France to his feet. The other nation had mostly healed since he'd been injured, but he was still a bit shaky on his feet. When he was standing Italy headed toward the door, peering out and looking to both sides before motioning them forward. He went out first, however, despite the fact that they could see his limp clearly and the newer bandage that showed through his shirt. He was still moving at a fairly quick pace, taking them up the stairs and into the hallway/ He froze at the top of the staircase, and they saw several Russian soldiers storm past, but none of them even looked in their direction. When they were far enough away Italy turned to the right and headed down the hall the opposite direction, toward the back of the house. Spain cleared his throat to speak, but Italy cut him off.

"It's best if you don't say anything. Last I checked he was upstairs, but we can't take any chances."

Spain swallowed and nodded, following the small Italian through the house. He noticed the smoke in the air and the occasional explosion that still shook the house. However, none of it seemed to be at the back of the house where they were headed, and he had a feeling the Italian's had done that on purpose so they could get out. They were almost to the kitchen when they heard a sharp command from behind them and instinctively ground to a halt. There was a group of Russian's behind them, and they all had their large guns pointed at them. Italy's amber eyes widened and Spain could have sworn he heard a whimpered curse escape his lips as the leader growled something at them in Russian. The man repeated the phrase several times, but none of them said anything nor moved. The leader scowled and lifted his gun higher, aiming it directly at Italy as he repeated his phrase another time. Italy shook his head, but Spain saw frustrated tears building up in his brown eyes as the Russian moved his finger to the trigger…

"Italy, go!"

Italy jumped at the sound of the gunshot, but he was shocked to see the man who was aiming at him fall to the ground, clutching at his now shattered knee. Lithuania was standing there, holding a smoking pistol, and Italy had to blink several times to ensure himself that it wasn't a dream. But no, the Baltic nation was still standing there, a grim frown on his face.

"Go, Italy, get them out of here. I'll hold them off for now."

"T-Toris, wh-wh-why…?"

"What about Russia?" Spain asked, but the brunette just laughed sadly.

"I'm sick of watching him go around hurting others as he pleases. So please, get out while you can. Raivis is waiting for you at the Kitchen entrance, so head there while I hold them off, and be careful, okay?"

Italy nodded, and he motioned them forward again, heading across the kitchen as fast as they could. When they made it to the door they found it was open and the small nation of Latvia was waiting for them just outside it, gun in his hands. He was trembling like always, but when he saw them he smiled.

"Come on, you're almost there! There hasn't been anyone over here yet so you're in luck, but you should get going."

"Okay. T-Tino, you and France first, and then Antonio, a-and—"

Italy was cut off by the sound of a volley of gunshots to their right, and he groaned at the sight of several Russian soldiers running toward them. Latvia just held up his gun in shaking hands, aiming it at the approaching men. He fired off several shots, yelling at them to hurry up and escape while they could. Finland and France headed off toward the street as fast as they could, but Spain hesitated until Italy pushed him forward and he took off. He wasn't quite fast enough, however, and Italy squeaked as a bullet hit the other nation in the thigh and he dropped to the ground. Finland turned around, and, upon seeing him crumple to the ground, let go of France and ran back. Italy was still standing near the door with Latvia, staring after them. As Finland helped Spain to his feet he yelled.

"Come on, Italy, we have to get out of here!"

A sad smile spread across Italy's face and he shook his head slowly. Finland's heart skipped a beat as he spoke.

"I can't…I'll only slow you down, Tino…y-you've got to take care of them already, a-ad…well, I can't make it very far like this. _M-mi dispiace, _b-but I have to stay behind."

"What? No, you have to come with us!" Finland cried, but Italy just shook his head again, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"I-I can't, just please…get them out of here, please!"

"No, Veneziano…" Spain moaned groggily, but he was losing blood fast and Latvia was barely holding the soldiers off. Italy just shook his head, and that was when they noticed the shadow behind him in the doorway. Finland gulped and, looping Spain's limp arm around him, stumbled off as fast as he could toward the street. France joined him, and he looped his friend's other arm around his shoulder just as Russia appeared behind Italy. When he looked back he saw Italy smiling through his tears just as Russia pulled him back into the house and threw him, and they could hear the faint crash even as they ran. They didn't look back again, and just kept running and running, trying to get away, trying not to think but none of them succeeded…

oOoOoOo

"What are we going to do?"

Romano didn't even shake his head, but slouched as he paced the street moodily. They had been trying to come up with a plan all night with no luck, so they had left the hotel before they killed each other with the tense atmosphere. But now they were pacing the streets, bundled up against the cold weather as they tried to come up with some way to get past Russia's defenses. Hungary sat on a low retaining wall, watching the other nation pace and mutter to himself. They were still like that an hour later when they heard the faint sounds on the wind and Romano finally stopped pacing and cocked his head to listen.

"What the hell?"

"Sounds like gunshots." Hungary said, and he nodded.

"Yeah, and they're coming from the same direction as that bastard's house."

"Should we-"

"Lovi…?"

Romano froze at the sound of a rather soft voice from a side street to his right, not believing what he was hearing. But when he turned there he was, standing there with a smile on his pale face…

"Toni!" Romano cried, running to him and throwing his arms around him, ignoring the two men on either side. "Bastard! H-how did you….you…"

"Aw, don't cry, Lovino." Spain whispered, letting his hand slide through Romano's hair limply, and Romano just snapped, burying his head into Spain's shoulder.

"I'm not c-crying…bastard….Toni…"

"How did you get out?" Hungary asked as she walked up. France and Finland exchanged glances, neither wanting to break the news to either of them but knowing they were going to realize it soon enough anyway. But then they heard Romano scream as Spain slumped in his arms, unconscious.

"Toni? Oi, wh-what are you doing? Are you…shit, you're bleeding! Why the hell didn't you say anything, y-you…"

"He got shot when we were escaping." Finland answered, brown eyes wide as he tried to calm himself. Romano looked around and then asked the question they'd been dreading.

"Where's _fratello_?"

"Ah…" France glanced at Finland who just shook his head and whispered.

"He stayed behind. He said he would be too much of a burden, and then…"

"He's still there?" Romano gasped loudly, clutching at the unconscious man in his arms as more tears made their way down his cheeks, and his eyes, instead of narrowing, grew wide with fear. "You left him there?"

"We had no choice, Romano. We would have gone back, but Russia was there, and he told us to run…" France cut off, voice choked with so many emotions as he thought about the smile on Italy's face, coupled with those precious tears as he resigned himself to his fate…

"Why the fuck did you leave him there?" Romano snapped loudly, and Hungary frowned but didn't comment as France sighed, looking weary and very harassed.

"We didn't want to leave him, Romano, but we didn't have a choice! It was either we left without him or nobody made it out at all."

Romano looked like he wanted to snap again, but looked down at the man in his arms and muttered.

"Let's get him somewhere safe…"

oOoOoOo

"…so we're missing six nations in total?"

England swallowed thickly and nodded, looking down at the list in his hands. They had all gathered in the underground shelters, housing not only the nations but as many of England's people as they could. Each of such shelters were packed full, but he knew there were people still up in the city as the Russians and other troops made their way through his city. He was sitting down on a bench, America on one side and Canada on his other. America appeared to be asleep but when he heard Canada's quiet proclamation he sighed deeply, coughing.

"Who's missing?"

"Denmark, Norway, Poland, Mexico, Sweden, and Prussia."

"I'm right here." Prussia walked up, sighing wearily and running through his already mussed hair. "I'm assuming that means _bruder_ is safe? I…well, we got separated several hours ago."

"He's over there." Canada gestured to his left where Germany was sitting, staring at his lap and not seeming to even notice the bustling mixture of people and nations around him. Prussia sighed again, shaking his head.

"Thanks. Oh, and I saw Poland and Mexico in another shelter further down."

"Really? Oh, good!" Canada sighed in relief, taking the list from England and crossing the three names off. "That leaves us with…Denmark, Norway, and Sweden still missing. Well, and Romano and Hungary, but someone said they drove off together…"

"They went to rescue the nations Russia took."

Even America lifted his head at that statement, sky blue eyes widening as he stared at Prussia who was looking down at his feet. The regret was obvious in his voice, and Canada raised his eyebrows in question.

"Did they take anyone else with them?"

"_Nein_." Prussia shook his head, sighing and running a hand through his snowy hair. "They said it would be easier with just the two of them."

"Have you heard anything since?" England asked, but Prussia shook his head.

"Nothing."

"I see." England crossed his legs and shut his eyes, leaning back against the cool wall. The fires in London had him running a constant fever, and the wall felt very nice on his warm face. Canada looked at him with worry filled eyes, which kept flicking between England and America. Prussia just walked away without another word, mind full of his own worries. As far as he knew, Russia still had his two closest friends, and also the only man he'd ever known who could make his brother smile like that…Prussia sighed deeply as he finally walked up to his brother, though he didn't even seem to notice his approach until Prussia cleared his throat loudly. His head shot up and Prussia could see his bloodshot eyes widening and then narrowing again when he saw who it was.

"Oh, _bruder_, you made it back."

"Yup, the awesome me so you don't have to worry anymore." Prussia said cheerfully, though even he knew it sounded false. "How're ya doing?"

"Fine." Germany mumbled, and Prussia snorted, ruffling his brother's still nearly-perfect hair as Germany made an annoyed noise. "What are you doing, Gilbert?"

"You're an idiot, you know." Prussia replied, sitting down next to his brother with a sigh and resting his head in his hands wearily. "But so am I…fuck, I hate this."

"_Bruder?_" Germany frowned, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder hesitantly, but Prussia just shook his head and laughing sardonically.

"I'm fine, Lud. It's just….fuck, I hate this shit, I hate it so much. We have no power over him, and he'll just keep doing whatever the hell he pleases until he's taken all of us, and we can't fucking do anything!"

Germany swallowed, thinking about a certain nation that Russia had taken. Not a minute had gone by where Italy wasn't on his mind, and before Romano had left he had asked him several times how his brother was doing. Romano had actually replied, which surprised him, and said his brother was fine, but the tone of his voice worried Germany a lot. Something was going on with Italy that Romano wasn't telling him, and that scared him. Prussia was staring at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. He sighed, leaning his head onto his brother's shoulder and shutting his eyes wearily. He hadn't gotten any sleep since Russia had called Hungary two nights ago, and he was exhausted. In moments he was out, and Germany raised his eyebrows but didn't push him away. He went back to staring at nothing, thinking of a certain auburn-haired nation…

"Alfred, go to sleep."

America sighed, looking up at the nation he was leaning on. England was frowning, large eyebrows drawn together in concern. But he also noticed the bags under his emerald eyes, and the pale colouring of his face. He reached a limp hand to England's cheek, frowning as well.

"You should too."

"I will, Alfred." England replied softly, but America just snorted quietly, covering his mouth as he coughed, making a face.

"You're lying."

"Go to sleep, Alfred." England replied, but instead America lifted his head from England's shoulder, causing Canada to look over, frowning as he reprimanded his brother.

"Al, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." America replied, pushing himself off the bench. "Just restless, s'all."

"You're not supposed to be walking-Alfred F. Jones, get back here!" England stood up and followed him as he moved off rather unsteadily. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well, you won't sleep if you're trying to watch over me, so I figured I'd just go somewhere else. 'Sides, there's plenty of stuff I could be doing, and really I haven't contacted my boss yet, so…" America trailed off as England glared at him.

"You are the most insufferable idiot I've ever known." England scowled, looking like he wanted to smack America across the face, but thought better of it. "I-"

He was cut off by the sound of a cell phone ringing and everyone turned to look for the source. Prussia, who the phone belonged to, started from his sleep and fell to the floor, and his brother jumped as well.

"_Bruder?"_

"Hm? Oh, s'my phone." Prussia pulled it out and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear. "This is the awesome Gilbert, blah blah blah….Liz!"

He seemed to awaken abruptly, shooting to his feet as the person on the other end of the line spoke. He didn't seem to notice the amount of gazes locked on him. When he replied his voice was loud and rushed, and he was clutching the phone so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

"You actually got them out? How…oh, I see. Well, I-so it was his people? Where were you two?" A slight pause. "Oh, I see…so, a-are they alright?"

Germany stared at his brother expectantly, noting the catch in his brother's voice and wishing his back wasn't turned to him so he could tell what his brother was thinking.

"What?" Several people started as Prussia's voice went up several levels. "He got sho-he's okay, right?" another pause, then a deep sigh of relief. "Oh, _Gott_…at least he's okay."

"Gilbert? What's going on?" Canada asked quietly, but Prussia just shook his head and motioned for him to be silent, completely intent on whatever Hungary was telling him.

"What about the others?" Another short silence, and then England and America saw his face fall and his red eyes widened in horror. When he spoke again his voice was strained. "Why did they…_nein_, I'm not angry, Eli, I just…oh, _Gott_, what am I going to tell him?"

"Gilbert, what happened?" Canada repeated, and Prussia just shook his head wearily.

"Are you coming back?" He whispered into the phone, and when Hungary replied he sighed deeply. "So in a week at least? Are you sure I can't just come there?"

Germany frowned as he heard the angry voice yelling faintly from the phone. Prussia winced and then sighed deeply.

"Okay, I'll stay away. But…promise you'll take care of yourself? _Bitte?_" A pause, and then he sighed again. "Alright, I'll let you go. Yeah, 'bye, Liz. Be careful."

He shut the phone, and let it drop back into his pocket, and then he ran both hands through his already messy hair. Canada sidled up to him, a deep frown on his face.

"They rescued them?"

"Ah, _j-ja_." Prussia said quietly, but Canada could tell there was something else he was trying not to say. Finally, Prussia whispered. "Antonio was shot, and…and…"

"And what? Come on, Gilbert, just tell us." Canada said kindly, putting a hand on his arm. Prussia took a deep breath and whispered.

"They left Italy behind."

oOoOoOo

Romano was sitting by the bed where Spain lay, leg wrapped in bandages and snoring softly. Romano refused to leave his side, arms wrapped around his legs as he stared into the other's face. The others had left the two of them alone, Hungary saying she had a phone call to make and France and Finland both sleeping in the other room. Romano was both grateful and annoyed that they left them alone, because then there was no one to distract him from his own torturous mind. He had been extremely relieved that Spain seemed to be doing well, and his injury was healing at a decent pace. However, he had yet to wake up, and thus the reason why he was sitting with his head leaning back onto the bed next to his old boss' head, staring at him and willing him to wake up. He pursed his lips, watching Spain's face for any sign of movement. About five minutes later he was surprised to see Spain's eyelids flicker and then blinked open slowly to reveal his warm green eyes. Romano gasped and turned around, eyes widening.

"Toni! You bastard, I-I've been waiting…"

"Lo…vi…?" Spain smiled, reaching out his hand to touch Romano's head. "You're okay…"

"Of course I'm okay, you b-bastard." Romano snapped, but Spain saw the tears building in his hazel eyes. "It's you who isn't…"

"I'm fine, Lovi." Spain argued softly, ruffling his hair and smiling. "It doesn't even hurt much anymore…"

"D-don't lie…stupid tomato bastard…" Romano scrubbed at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling but failing epically. "I was s-s-so worried about y-you…you i-idiot…"

"I know you were, Lovi, _querido_…" Spain said soothingly, tracing his hand down Romano's cheek to wipe away a few of the stray tears. Romano turned away to hide his flushed cheeks, curling his knees up higher and hiding his face in his hands. Spain struggled to sit up, and Romano spun around again.

"Don't move, i-idiot!"

"But your still crying." Spain sulked, and then he reached out a hand. "Come up by me?"

Romano shook his head stubbornly, and then glared as Spain immediately tried to move again.

"Stop it, stupid Toni!"

"You called me 'Toni'." Spain smiled warmly, and Romano flushed bright red. He chuckled and reached out to grab Romano's shoulder. "Please, _querido_? It would help me sleep if my cute little Romano was next to me."

Romano pouted but finally gave in, climbing onto the bed and curling up next to Spain, though his back was to him. Spain sighed and shook his head, but knew better than to push the issue. It was enough to have Romano showing any sort of affection at all. He smiled happily, snugglign his face into the crook of Romano's neck.

"_Te amo_, Lovino…thank you for coming to save me."

Romano grumbled under his breath, but Spain swore that, as he drifted off, Romano kissed his forehead and whispered.

"_Ti amo_, Antonio."

oOoOoOo

A/N: Thought y'all deserved some fluff there :3

Querido- dear/darling (in Spanish)


	24. 23: Will I See You Again?

A/N: And the plot thickens….(oh geez, so corny….it's 2 AM =.=)

You guys are so awesome, thank you so much for sticking along with me! Keep reading and reviewing!

oOoOoOo

"_Where are you now?__  
__Are you lost?__  
__Will I find you again…?__  
__Are you alone?__  
__Are you afraid?__  
__Are you searching for me…?__  
__Why did you go? I had to stay…__  
__Now I'm reaching for you…__  
__Will you wait, will you wait…?__  
__Will I see you again…?"_

oOoOoOo

"You have all been ordered to return to your countries."

All of them stared at England's Prime Minister, who looked as harassed and exhausted as England himself. It was little wonder-London was in bad shape, and they had just learned of Norway's death a few hours before. Denmark was alive, only barely, and Sweden had already returned to his peninsula to try and help fight back Russia's forces. He was attacking on all fronts now, pressing them to their limits, and the loss of yet another nation was frightening their bosses. Everyone was getting calls constantly, and almost everyone was being ordered home. Several nations had already left, and the few that remained were now being sent as well. America yawned at England's side, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He had ended staying up all night helping England, despite the other's protests. He didn't regret it, though, and when England turned to glare at him he smiled.

"Hey Iggy."

"Don't call me that." England said automatically, but America saw the worry in his eyes. "I told you to go to sleep, Alfred. You look awful."

"So do you." America countered, and it was mostly true. England was trying to hide it, but he had been in constant pain since the attack began. America had been watching him the whole time, knowing exactly how it felt to have a capital decimated, and trying to help as much as he could while he still had time. He too had been ordered home, his President wanting him to at least be within country borders in case something happened. Both England and Canada had opposed his return specifically, seeing as that his country was still heavily at war with Russian troops, but America had brushed their worries aside and with a laugh told his boss he'd be there in less than twenty four hours. His flight was due in only an hour and a half, and he could see England's worry clear in the depths of his Jade eyes. America sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"I have to go back, Iggy. Geez, you're turning into one of those old farts who just sits about and worries about those pesky kids, you know? Like, one of those ornery-"

"That's enough, Alfred." England cut in, but his eyebrows were still drawn together and a frown almost reminiscent of a pout on his lips. "You don't have to go back, you know. They can't force you to."

"Not this again." America pouted, poking England's nose. "I have to go back home, Iggy. My country needs their hero."

"But you're not going to fight, right Alfred? Alfred?" England frowned deeply as America shrugged and refused to answer, and several nations looked up as his tone turned almost hysteric. "Alfred, you can't! Why the bloody hell do you think you're being sent back?"

"I'm not going to sit around while that fucker tries to destroy my country, Arthur." America said, his voice suddenly deathly serious. "If I can help out, I will."

"But you're already hurt!" England cried, grabbing at his worn jacket and forgetting that anyone else was there. "Look at you! You-you've lost so much weight, a-and you've been so exhausted…damn it, Alfred, I won't let you go back if you're going to do that!"

"Iggy…" America sighed as England stomped his foot down like a petulant child, crossing his arms.

"No! Damn it, Alfred, it's not safe!"

"I know that, Artie, I'm not stupid." America replied softly, bring his hand to cup England's face, using a gloved thumb to wipe away a stray tear that England hadn't even realized had fallen. "I'll be careful, I promise. But they need me over there, Arthur." He dropped his voice even lower, and his blue eyes shone with sincerity. "I need to help them, Iggy. But I promised, didn't I? I'll always return to you."

England just gazed into his eyes, his own still shimmering with unshed tears. America brushed his lips against England's in a chaste kiss, pulling back with a sad smile.

"I'll be back before you know it, Iggy."

"You better be." England muttered grudgingly, but America knew that he had accepted it. England would never admit it to anyone, but the one thing he feared the most was losing his sunshine, to see those bright blue eyes dull with death. Ever since America was a child, he had always fussed over him, trying to keep him safe. But, as America always told him, he was no longer a child who needed to be coddled, and had even exceeded any of England's former glory. America kissed him one last time and pulled him into a crushing hug before turning and exited, following the suited officers who had been waiting by the door. England watched him go, trying to keep up his front of indifference, but Canada put a hand on his arm and felt him shaking as several nations followed the American's example and left to travel to their own countries. There were several who remained behind, either unwilling or unable to return home at that time. Denmark was sitting in a corner by Iceland, both with their heads bowed and seemingly unresponsive. Germany hadn't even left his spot since the night before, and hadn't spoken a single word, even to his brother. Canada had remained, though he was supposed to leave with his brother since they were flying to Canada first since Washington DC was deemed unsafe for air traffic, as was most of America. He didn't know why he remained behind, but he was glad he did when he heard a voice from the doorway.

"It is rather quiet, _non?_ Alfred must have left then."

"_P-Papa_…?"

England turned to see France standing in the doorway, a grim smile on his face as he leaned against the doorway. Hungary was right behind him, and Finland behind her. They watched as Canada ran forward, flinging himself at his former guardian. France chuckled as the young nation flung his arms around him, already bawling.

"_Bonjour, Mathieu."_

"You're back?" England asked, his voice carrying the air of annoyance he usually had when France was in the room, but there was also a note of relief. France nodded, running his fingers through Canada's hair.

"We thought it best that we came back as soon as we could, before the Russians found us."

"What about Spain and Romano?" England asked calmly, though when Canada looked back at him he knew that he was barely keeping calm at that point. France sighed mournfully, his hand still absentmindedly running through Canada's hair.

"They stayed behind for a couple of days, though they switched hotels. Toni, he's…well, he's not up for travel quite yet, and Romano's not doing so well either."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Italy was injured pretty badly." Hungary finally spoke in a low voice but Prussia, who had been dozing next to his brother, perked up suddenly.

"Liz!"

"What do you mean, Italy is injured? Do you know how bad the damage is?" England asked in a clipped tone, and France's mouth tightened, his hand finally ceasing its motions.

"We don't know exactly how bad it is, but Romano had a massive migraine when we left, and he said there was a pain in his chest too. But we do have confirmation that Italy is still alive."

They noticed Germany's eyes flicker with emotion for the first time since he'd first heard the news, and he looked up at the new arrivals. Prussia had walked over to hug Hungary, holding her out at arm's length to check her over for injuries. She sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm fine, Gil. I didn't even do much." She added bitterly, and he tried to laugh.

"That's good, right? Even though…ah, fuck this!" He hugged her again, and her eyes widened.

"Gil, what-"

"Just let me sit like this for a minute." He grumbled, and she knew he was using he as a shield, to hide his weakness. She looked up, her gaze going to Germany who was staring at all of them, cerulean eyes hollow, and she shivered. They had gone back to see if they could rescue Italy somehow, but by the time they got there the house was cleared out, and there was no sign of the Russian or his men anywhere. They had searched the city for hours to try and find out where they had gone, but no one had seen them leaving, and they were once again at a loss. The only thing they had discovered at the house was Latvia's body, and that had only shaken them more. They had given him a proper burial, though none of them spoke through the whole ordeal. Things were getting out of hand, and their resolve to stop Russia had only heightened. She heard England sigh and looked up to see him running a hand through his hair.

"Bloody hell…This just keeps getting worse, doesn't it…?"

"Arthur?" France questioned, gasping as England's eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the ground. Both he and Canada rushed forward, as did several British soldiers that had been hanging around the edges. France lifted England's torso u, brushing back his bangs to feel his forehead.

"He doesn't feel too warm." He said, and Canada frowned miserably.

"It's probably because of the bombings on the city. H-he's been refusing help since it happened, but I bet he was doing that for A-Al's sake…"

"_Imbécile_." France shook his head, sighing. "We should get him back to his house, if it's safe."

"We have secured it, Mr. Bonnefoy, sir." One of the soldiers said, and he motioned for another to come over and help him lift the unconscious nation. "We will transport him to his home. In the meantime, sir, I suggest you return home."

France just nodded, a deep frown on his face as the Englishman saluted before carrying England away. Canada was crying silently, and he stood up to brush the tears away.

"Do not cry, Mathieu." He said softly, and Canada quickly tried to scrub them away.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just…people are d-dying, a-and Arthur is hurt, a-a-and Alfred…."

"Shh, _chéri_, it'll be alright…your brother will be just fine, and Arthur is far too much of a stubborn ass to die." France hugged him again. "You should head home, Mathieu."

"I-I know…" He sighed, leaning into France again. "I know, b-but…I need to calm down first." He laughed nervously. "He h-hates it when I cry."

France just smiled sadly, pulling a handkerchief out and dabbing at the other nation's eyes. He knew Canada was sensitive, but he also had a big heart and he could tell the younger nation was worried about all of his "family". It was just how Canada was. France sighed and hugged him again, just grateful to be there and alive, to be able to hold him in his arms, because for several days he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to do so again. He could feel the smaller man's tears soaking his shirt but, for once, he didn't care. They sat there for several minutes, clutching at each other as their worlds fell apart.

oOoOoOo

Half an hour later, after setting up a flight back home, Finland finally made his way over to his two friends who had remained. He had been informed of Norway's death and had cried several times, but he was trying to hold them back. When he walked up Iceland raised his head, a small smile making its way to his face when he noticed who it was.

"Tino! You're alright!" He threw his arms around him, which surprised the other nation. Iceland had never been one to openly show his affection, but…well, it shouldn't have surprised him. After all, they had been through so much already…he hugged back as tears pricked at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ice. Really, I…"

"Why are you apologizing?" Iceland said, looking forlorn. "It's not your fault he took you…o-or killed big brother…"

_Not going to cry again, not going to cry…_

"He's right."

He almost lost it at the sound of Denmark's hollow voice, and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes.

"I…I…"

"You're returning home, right?" Denmark asked, and he nodded. "Good. Berwald has been looking like shit since you were taken."

"D-Den…"

"What's that look for, eh?" Denmark tried to laugh, but that only made Finland want to cry even more. "Come on, we should all get home."

"Don't stand up!" Finland squeaked as the other nation made to stand. "You're hurt, y-you shouldn't be moving!"

"I'm fine, Finny." Denmark assured him, the grin on his face a shadow of its former brightness. "I've already started healing…my nation's still in good shape, believe it or not. Guess I'm lucky, huh?"

"S-stop that." Finland whispered, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks, and the other nation raised an eyebrow.

"Stop what?"

"Th-that, the happy act…"

Denmark just shrugged, standing up slowly and would have walked away if Iceland hadn't grabbed his arm. He turned back around, finding himself faced with a surprisingly annoyed Nordic.

"Don't do this. I-we loved him too, but that doesn't mean we're going to give up!"

Denmark raised his eyebrows, partly hidden by a bandage across his forehead. But Finland could see something in his eyes as he caught his gaze, and then the tears started pouring as he slumped to his knees, Iceland catching him partway.

"I p-promised…" the other nation sobbed, and Finland knelt down by the two of them and put his arms around him as he cried. "I p-promised him…I said I'd p-protect him, b-b-but I didn't, and now he's….he's…"

"There was nothing you could have done." Finland whispered, even though tears were once again pouring down his own cheeks. "Y-you're lucky to even be alive, Den…"

"We're all lucky." Iceland said softly, and they sat together, offering what little comfort they could until it was time for them to go their separate ways.

oOoOoOo

Germany wasn't going to pick up the phone. He really was in no mood, to talk to anyone, even his boss or his brother, but his own morals wouldn't let it go unanswered. And so he picked it up and grumbled a greeting, body going completely stiff at the voice he heard.

"_L-Ludwig_?"

He couldn't speak, couldn't even breath-hell, he was lucky he could even hold onto the phone at that point, because…that voice, the one he had been longing to hear for over a week now.

"_Ludwig? A-a-are you there?"_

"J-ja." He whispered, and he heard a relief laugh on the other end of the line.

"_Oh, g-good, I thought I'd gotten the wrong number s-somehow_…" Another soft chuckle followed by a weak cough. "_You sound okay…th-that's good, I was so worried…I tried to warn you, b-but he was watching me, a-and…."_

"Feliciano…" Germany breathed, and the other nation laughed nervously.

"_S-si, it's me…ah, b-b-but I can't talk long…I'm already probably going to get caught as it is, but I-I just had to hear your voice…" _Italy was crying now, but Germany still clung onto every single word, not believing that he was even hearing his voice. "_I-I broke into his office, because I m-miss you so m-m-much…Ludwig, I-I…"_

"Are you alright?" Germany asked, finally able to string words together, and Italy sighed lightly.

"_Ah, s-si, I'm fine…well, not exactly "fine", but well as I can be…what about Ludwig? Are you…are you okay?"_

"I'm fine, Feliciano. _Bruder_ and I were some of the first to find shelter, when the bombs hit." The words came more easily now, though for some reason he found himself choking up as he spoke. "But you shouldn't be worrying about me, Feli…_Gott_, just…take care of yourself."

"_I-I'll try, Ludwig. I'll try my very hardest." _He could almost hear Italy's smile. "_D-did big brother France and the others make it back okay? I-I've been so worried…"_

"They're fine, Feli." Germany said quietly. "France, Hungary, and Finland all showed up earlier today, and they said that your brother and Spain were safe in a hotel."

"_Oh, good! I'm so happy!" _Italy laughed again, but Germany could hear the tears behind it. "_I-I miss you so much, Ludwig…I-I…I wish I could be there…wi-with you, b-b-but…"_

"Sh, calm down, Feli, don't cry." _Because I don't know if I can stop myself from doing so as well. _"_Bitte, _Feli…it's okay, we'll get you out of there, I promise."

"_I-I want to believe you, I-I-I do…" _Italy sobbed, but he showed no sign of calming down. "_I-I don't even know where we are, a-a-and he's keeping us locked in, and I've already tried e-everything, b-b-but it's no use, Ludwig!"_

"Feli…"

"_M-mi dispiace, Ludwig, I-I didn't mean to cry, really I didn't…" _He sniffled, and Germany could see his face all too clearly in his mind, and a dull ache began to build in his chest. His heart leapt in his chest when he heard a door slamming on Italy's side, and Italy gasped loudly. "_Oh no, he's back! Um, I-I have to go, Ludwig…ti amo, ti amo tanto, Ludwig…"_

"I-Ich liebe dich, Feliciano." Germany said, though his voice was choked when he realized he was soon going to hang up, and who knew when he would speak to Italy again? Italy just laughed softly, even though he was still sobbing loudly, and Germany could hear Lithuania's voice in the back ground.

"_Italy, he's back, you need to get off!"_

"_I-I know…a-arrivederci, Ludwig…t-ti amo…"_

Then the line cut off, and Germany listened to the dial tone, frozen in place. It wasn't until his brother opened the door several minutes later and his eyes widened that he realized he was crying. Prussia walked up, worry clear in his scarlet eyes.

"West? West, what's wrong?"

Germany opened his mouth, but no words came out, and in the end he let his brother wrap his arms around him and pull him close, and he cried silently into his brother's shoulder. Prussia let him, and didn't question him any further, because his brother was already broken. He didn't want to be the one to break him further.

oOoOoOo

"Lovi?"

Romano opened his eyes and looked up, still massaging at his temples in an attempt to get rid of the searing migraine that he'd been having all day. He was sitting next to Spain, who had been sleeping. His lover was looking at him with a frown on his face, his green eyes serious, which irked Romano somehow. He grimaced and said.

"What do you want, bastard?"

"Are you okay?" Spain asked, and Romano snorted, hitting his old boss in the shoulder, though much lighter than he normally would have.

"I'm fine, you bastard. Worry about yourself, why don't you? You're the one who got fucking shot in the leg."

"Still hurts, doesn't it?" Spain said, reaching to touch Romano's face. "I'm sorry, Lovi. We should have made sure he got out too."

"Don't apologize, stupid Spain." Romano snapped. "It's not your fault, damn it...I should have gotten him out of there myself, instead of waiting around. I'm so fucking stupid."

"No you're not." Spain said sternly, sitting up. "Lovi, you did what you could. There's nothing any of us could have done to help your brother, not without risking ourselves in the process, and do you think he'd want that?"

Romano just shook his head, and Spain could see just how frustrated he was with himself. He wrapped his arms around the other man

"Lovi…" he sighed, pouting. "Boss doesn't want to see you get hurt, okay? That's why we're going to go back to Italy while a plan is thought up-"

"What? No!" Romano spun around, his hazel eyes wide. "I'm not going back without Veneziano!"

"Lovi…"

"No!" Romano yelled, clutching at Spain's shirt. "I can't go back without him! I won't leave him to that fucker, h-he's going to kill him! Damn it, Antonio, I'm not going back!"

"You have to Lovi, _querido_." Spain said softly, tightening his embrace even as Romano struggled against it. "Russia knows you're after him, he's going to be looking for you."

"I don't fucking care!" Romano squirmed. "That's my brother he has, my _fratello, _I can't leave him there…"

"We're not going to leave him, _querido_, we'll get him out of there." Spain assured him, pressing a kiss to the other nation's temple. "But please, at least for now, return home…"

"You…you'll be coming with me?" Romano whispered after a short silence, and Spain nodded.

"_Si, querido_, of course I will. I will stay with you as long as you want me to."

"But what about your boss? Won't he…won't he get mad?"

"Probably." Spain laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me that much, Lovinito."

Romano flushed.

"Don't call me that, bastard!"

Spain just chuckled, hugging Romano tightly and thinking to himself how happy he was to see Romano back to his old grumpy self.

"_Te amo_, Lovi."

He didn't get any response, but he didn't expect one. Romano was Romano, and that one thing would never change. And for that, he was grateful.

oOoOoOo

"Arthur?"

England groaned, blinking open his eyes slowly to find France sitting in a chair beside him, frowning. When he heard England grumbling sleepily, however, he sighed in relief.

"Oh, _Dieu_, you're awake. We were all so worried."

"What happened?" England asked drowsily, rubbing at his eyes. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck or something, though some of that he'd been feeling since before.

"You fainted." France said bluntly, shaking his head. "You've been out all day, in fact. Mathieu was worried about you."

"Damn." England groaned. "I was trying to avoid that….you didn't tell Alfred did you?"

"I did not, but Mathieu might have." France shrugged. "I haven't heard from either of them yet. They should have landed by now, I believe."

"Oh…" England frowned, and France sighed at his morose expression.

"I'm sure Alfred will be just fine, Arthur. He's a stubborn fool like you, he won't die so easily."

"I know he is, but…" England sighed, trying to sit up but a wave of dizziness forced him back to his pillows and he groaned again. "Bloody hell…I feel awful."

"You look as such, _Angelterre_." France chuckled sadly, and England glared at him.

"Shut up, Frog."

"You seem to be doing much better." France remarked, but England could see that it was mostly bravado. France really had been scared, and he almost felt bad. Almost.

"Well, I still feel like utter shit, thank you very much." He grumbled, but began reaching for his phone. France stopped him, shaking his head.

"Wait for him to call, Arthur. They might not have even landed yet."

"It's been over twelve hours, Francis. The flight only takes seven." But he sighed and left his phone sitting where it was, bringing his hand back to rest against his forehead. After a long silence he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" France asked, and England just shut his eyes, his voice low.

"For everything. I-it's mostly my fault this bloody war even started." England gritted his teeth in self-hatred. "And now there are people dying, and Russia's just going around as he pleases doing whatever he wants, and I can't even stop it!"

"If there is any blame to be given, _mon ami_, we share it. I am as guilty as you are, for starting this…"

"It's all our fault, isn't it?" England said, and France had to look to know there weren't tears in his eyes because his voice was so thick. "Everyone who's died, who's gotten hurt, who's had people taken from them….it's all because we started this, isn't it?"

"We are not entirely to blame, _Angleterre_." France said sternly, but he couldn't deny that he'd thought the same thing as well. Ever since he had first stood up to Russia, he had been thinking about just how much his and England's decision had cost them. Norway, Latvia, Austria, South Korea…and there was bound to be more, if they couldn't stop Russia in time. But he also knew, somewhere in his heart, that it wouldn't have mattered who started the fight, Russia would have swept in and taken control anyway. At the same time, that didn't take away the guilt that lingered in his heart, and as he gazed down at England he knew the other nation felt the same way.

oOoOoOo

A/N: So much crying in the chapter =.= Ah well…


	25. 24: Each Undeserved Tear

A/N: I swear, I will stop getting distracted so I update more regularly OTL I just had so much to do since I became admin of a cosplay group, and then I had my seasonal job at a Ren Faire, and then…yeah, the gist of it is I love you guys and hopefully I'll actually get this done. ;w;/

Thank you for all the reviews and encouragement to keep writing! If it wasn't for you guys, I don't know if I would have gotten through the bit of writer's block I was having. So thank you and keep up the great work!

Also, I hate to say this after how late this update is, NANOWRIMO is this month so I'll be working on another story ;w;/ I'll try to work on this one as well, but I apologize in advance!

oOoOoOo

"_Now let us lie-_

_Sad we lived, sad we die;_

_Even in your pride, I never blamed you…_

…

_No sympathy, no eternity-_

_One light for each undeserved tear…"_

oOoOoOo

"So, how is little Italy today?"

Russia was smiling, but that only made it worse. Italy was standing in front of the Russian, though his legs were trembling from the sheer effort. When Russia had thrown him into the kitchen he had cracked several ribs, and aggravated his already injured leg, as well as his head. His entire torso was bandaged now, and he was extremely dizzy, but he couldn't show that to Russia. The other nation would only use that as an excuse to hurt him more and Italy wasn't sure how much more he could handle. Russia just cocked his head innocently as he spoke again.

"You're still under the impression someone will save you, da?" He chuckled darkly. "Foolish thought. They've all scurried back to their little hidey-holes, they're not even thinking about you anymore."

Italy shut his eyes, wishing he could block out the chilling words coming out of Russia's mouth. He knew the other nation was doing it on purpose, slipping the doubt in his mind at every opportunity, but Italy liked to believe he was stronger than that. Russia knew better, judging by the smirk on his face as he continued.

"They're never coming for you, Veneziano. You might as well resign yourself to that fact. After all, who would risk their lives for silly, useless Italy? Who would get themselves to save your pathetic skin?"

Italy bit his lip, screwing his eyes shut tighter and wishing he could cover his ears too, but Russia would see that as a reason for punishment, so he restrained his urge. Russia went on in the same strain for several more minutes before deciding that he'd had enough fun for the evening and reached into his desk.

"I have work for you to do. I need you to send out the instructions on these sheets to each of my generals. It's about time I showed those quivering fools my real might, da?"

Italy shuddered, taking the papers in trembling fingers-he knew better than to disobey. He attempted a bow before hobbling out of the room toward the stairs that led to the small attic room he'd been given. Russia had decided to use him to do work for him, and Italy, fearing further injury to himself or the others, grudgingly obeyed. He walked with wobbling steps toward the desk which held a phone and a computer, both completely locked to sending anything out to anyone not certified by Russia. He lowered himself into the chair, wincing as he accidentally put pressure on his ribs, biting back a whimper. Italy was furious with himself, knowing he was doing everything short of signing his friends' death warrants, and he couldn't do anything about it because he was too afraid of getting hurt or…he shuddered involuntarily. He had to be strong, had to keep trying his best to stop Russia from doing anything worse. He sighed deeply, wincing again as he picked up the pieces of paper Russia had given him, reading through the words quickly. He froze when he got to the second paragraph, the papers slipping from his fingers to land on the floor as he brought his hands to his mouth.

"_Deploy three units to begin attacks on Berlin and surrounding area, use any and all force deemed necessary…"_

"_Dio_…"

oOoOoOo

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Alfred sighed, rolling his eyes so it was visible to his twin who had been following him, blue-violet eyes anxious. Matthew had told him about France's return, and also about England collapsing, and that made Alfred even more eager to get back to fighting and trying to come up with a way to stop Russia from harming him ever again. His personal plane had been left at the airport where they'd landed, so he was planning on flying right to New York, and from there attempting to make it to Washington D.C.. Matthew had been trying the entire ride over to convince him that it was foolish, that he was just going to get himself killed and what he really needed to do was lay low, but Alfred refused.

"At least call Arthur first!" Matthew huffed, frustrated. He knew the Briton was most likely waiting anxiously for the call, since it had taken them longer than expected to get to Canada. But Alfred just shook his head, continuing across the tarmac to his plane.

"You can call him for me, right, Mattie? I should get going right away."

"Call him yourself, Alfred!" Matthew said sharply, grabbing his brother's arm in a surprising show of annoyance. He knew America wanted to be a hero, wanted to protect everyone, but… "You love him, don't you? He'd rather you called him, eh!"

Alfred didn't turn around, but Canada could see his shoulders stiffen and then a loud sigh escaped his brother's lips before he whispered softly.

"If I hear his voice, my resolve might crumble and I would want to fly right back across that ocean into his arms and never leave again, but…I just _can't_, Mattie. I have a responsibility."

"You don't have to do it, Alfred, and you know it! Can't you see we're worried about you, you…you damn hoser!"

Matthew's grip on his arm had tightened, and his eyes were steely yet at the same time filled with tears that threatened to spill down his pink cheeks. Alfred finally turned to look at him, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but Matthew was surprised to see the sadness in his brother's eyes as well.

"I know you're worried, Mattie…but if I don't do anything, Russia will just keep going and I…I don't want you or Arthur to be next, alright?"

Matthew was surprised to hear the anguish, the utter fear, in his brother's voice. Matthew sighed, shaking his head, but a small smile had formed on his lips.

"I don't think he's going to be coming for me any time soon, Al. It's you he's been trying to take down the most…"

"I'm the greatest threat." Alfred said bitterly, smiling wanly. "I was the one at the top, the one he's always wanted to see crash and burn…"

Matthew felt a pang in his heart as he saw Alfred's eyes fill with an indescribable sadness as he thought of his people, and the large sections of his beloved country that was in ruins. Canada knew just how horrible his brother had to be feeling, knowing how much he had always prided himself on his beautiful lands, and his people…he threw his arms around his brother and squeezed him, taking care not to hurt him, and Alfred made a soft noise of surprise.

"Mattie?"

"Take care of yourself, Al." Canada whispered, holding onto his brother tightly as his eyes filled with tears once more. "Do you hear me? I'll call Arthur to let him know we've landed…"

"Thanks, bro." Alfred said, squeezing his brother one last time before letting go and giving him a grin that contradicted his sad eyes. "I'll see ya around, Mattie."

"Bye…" Canada said, giving his brother a small smile as he turned and walked to his plane, thinking how small those shoulders looked as they retreated from him, and recalling the words once spoken to England…

"You used to be so big…" he whispered as he watched his brother get in the cockpit before taking off down the runway and into the sky toward his decimated country.

oOoOoOo

"Italy?"

Lithuania frowned as he knocked on the door to the attic room where Italy was living for the time being. When he received no response he tried knocking again before deciding to just open the door. He pushed it open slowly, peering around the doorway to find Italy leaning onto the desk, snoring gently. He frowned concernedly, but he decided not to wake him right away-he knew Italy had been sleeping only sporadically since he had regained consciousness, and was probably horribly exhausted. Lithuania sighed, setting down the tray of food he had brought with him and touching Italy's shoulder, jumping back as the other nation shot up.

"_Che co_-oh, Toris." Italy sighed in relief, a faux smile making its way to his face. "_Dispiace_, I must have drifted off…"

"Ah, it's alright, Italy…I'm sorry to have woken you." Lithuania smiled wearily. "I brought you some food."

"Ah, _grazie_, Toris." Italy smiled weakly, wincing as he accidentally stretched his chest too much. Lithuania put a hand on his arm, frowning deeply.

"We should change your bandages, I bet they need tightening…"

"Ah, it's okay, I can do it myself." Italy assured him. "Y-you should worry about your own injuries…"

"Mine are nothing compared to what he did to you, Italy." Lithuania whispered, a sombre expression on his face, and Italy's smile faltered for a moment before he bowed his head and nodded solemnly, unbuttoning his shirt as Lithuania grabbed some bandages to replace the old ones. He stayed as still as he could while the other nation unwrapped his chest, wincing occasionally as a slight movement caused pain to shoot up his side. Lithuania apologized softly each time, but continued his work with careful hands that spoke of years of experience. The thought of that made Italy frown with pity-here he was complaining after only a few weeks in Russia's capture, and yes Lithuania and his brothers had spent many decades in his "care". He bit his lip, remembering the way the three of them had stood up for him as he helped the others escape, how Latvia had been killed…he didn't realize he had begun crying until Lithuania looked up at him with a sombre smile and brushed a tear from his cheek.

"It's alright, Italy…after a while, you'll get used to it. You'll learn not to cry."

Somehow the sound of that simple, almost bleak phrase made Italy want to cry even harder, but he tried to hold it back, knowing he had to be strong if he was ever going to do any good to his friends. He needed to find a way to warn Germany, to tell him he was being targeted, but he couldn't while Russia had such a close on watch on him, and that made him feel so useless. Italy was used to being told he was useless, though-how many times had even Germany himself mentioned how useless he was, how weak and stupid he was. But now was his one chance to prove he wasn't the silly, helpless nation they'd always told him he was, and he couldn't do anything. Russia had been right in his saying that no one would be willing to put their lives in danger for him-even though he wanted to believe that Germany would and had been trying to come up with a way to get him out of there. He wanted to have faith in Germany, because he loved him, he truly did, but…he was starting to believe that there really was no use in waiting for a rescue that would never come. Italy was well and truly alone…

…and he hated it.

oOoOoOo

England had been staring at his phone, as if just glaring at it would make it ring the silly tune America had set for himself ages ago, long before there's was even a hint of a war. He sighed morosely, setting his mobile back down on the side table, picking up his lukewarm cup of Earl Grey and sipping it as he stared out the window. It was raining (though that was hardly a surprise, given it was London), and the weather did nothing to lighten his mood. He had yet to receive a phone call from Canada or America, and that caused him to worry greatly. Just as he was about to take another sip of his tea, however, his phone rang, and he recognized the lyrics of the once popular song "Canadian, please"-Canada was finally calling. He picked up the phone in moments, some of his tea spilling on the side table.

"Matthew? Have you landed? Is Alfred alright?"

"_Ah, Arthur, don't speak so fast, eh."_

England huffed, gripping his phone tightly as he forced himself to take a few calming breaths.

"I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have been so agitated…I'm guessing you two have landed?"

"_We landed about half an hour ago. I would have called sooner, but I had to see Al off and tell him not to be an inconsiderate jerk." _Matthew replied, and England could tell that he was trying to sound light-hearted but the worry was evident in his soft voice.

"He went back already, then?" England replied, his voice cool and composed thanks to centuries of practice. He had already been far too emotional the past few weeks for his liking, and and he didn't want to appear any weaker than he already did. On the other end of the line Matthew sighed softly before replying.

"_Yes he did. I told him to call you himself, but…he said he had to go back right away."_

"Of course he did." Arthur grumbled, and he heard Matthew sigh.

"_He's just trying to be a hero in his own, selfless, foolish way. I honestly don't blame him, eh…I mean, if it was my country looking like that…" _

"Yes, Matthew, I am well aware of the state his country is in. All the more reason for him to stay away from the fighting, because he's more vulnerable, he could get himself…" Arthur sighed deeply, picking up his tea cup again to have something to do, to keep his mind from finishing that sentence. Matthew just sighed again, and Arthur could almost imagine him shaking his head.

"_But you and I both know Al better than that, Arthur. He could never sit and watch his country burn without putting up a fight."_

"I know." England said softly, sipping from his cup and grimacing at the now cooled tea. "Thank you for calling me, Matthew. I should let you go about your business."

"_Alright. I'll call you if I hear anything about Al. I'll talk to you later, Arthur."_

"Likewise." Arthur replied before shutting his phone and setting it back on the table calmly. He took another sip of his tea, scowling at the cool beverage before chucking the cup across the room, shattering it on the wall. He stared at the shards of glass before slumping back against the headboard wearily, resting his arm over his eyes.

"Bloody git…bloody, foolish, loveable git…."

oOoOoOo

Prussia stared out the window, a weary scowl on his face. He was in the kitchen, finally having moved from his room so he wouldn't have to listen to the sound of Germany pacing in the room next door. His brother was spending most of his time trying to track Russia down again, but there was little hope of being able to find him again, and that made Germany antsy and furious. He spent most of his time either in his study or pacing in his bedroom, trying to think of a way to get Italy back again. Prussia had given up on trying to get him to sleep more than a few hours at a time, and it was showing. He let out a heavy sigh, glaring out at the sunset moodily.

"Gilbert?"

He jumped, taking the small gun he'd taken to carrying again and pointing it behind him automatically, red eyes flashing. Hungary raised her eyebrows, but showed no other sign of surprise at the weapon pointed in her face.

"Good evening to you too, Gilbert."

"Liz…don't do that." He sighed, putting the safety back on and setting the gun down on the table. She just smiled wearily, shrugging.

"Sorry. I was just coming by to see you."

"Shouldn't you be at home?" He asked, frowning it a bit, and she shook her head.

"There's nothing much happening over at my place. Besides, I said I was here for business, so it's fine."

Prussia just nodded, gesturing toward the table.

"Go ahead and sit, then. Do you, uh…do you need anything?"

"You, being courteous? Should I be worried?" Hungary quipped, a small smile on her face, but it was strained and Prussia just chuckled wryly.

"Give me a little more credit, Liz. Beer okay?"

"Beer's fine." She said, nodding her thanks as he handed one over before opening his own and taking a long swig from it. He leaned against the counter, staring back out the window again as they sat in silence. After several minutes passed this way Hungary finally spoke in a soft voice.

"Has there been any news on Russia's movements?"

"Not that I'm aware." Prussia replied, sighing. "He has mobilised a decent number of troops, but we are as of yet unaware of where he plans to strike. It could be any of us."

"Or all of us." She grumbled, taking another drink from her beer and setting it down on the table. "We don't even know how many he has, or what his plans are…it's like he's playing a game with us, but only he knows all the pieces."

"It's how he wants it." Prussia said darkly, his free hand curling into a fist. "He's playing with us, and he enjoys it. He likes seeing us jumpy and beaten, waiting to see what he throws at us next."

"But we can't just sit around doing nothing." Hungary practically growled, and Prussia looked over at her with tired scarlet eyes.

"What can we do, Liz? Everyone who has tried to push back ends up either dead or nearly there. Look at America…hell, look at Feliciano!" He slammed his beer onto the table, making her jump. "We can't win, Liz, and he fucking knows it! Ivan will just keep on going until he has all of at his side, under his foot, and he knows that we don't have the strength to stop him because we're fucking weak!"

"So you've given up, is that it?" Hungary stood up, her green eyes shining with anger. "You've given up on Feli and the others, you'll just let him do this? We still have a chance, Gilbert, if we just keep fighting back! He's only won once we give up."

"How many more have to die before we give up, Elizabeta? Will you be satisfied if you're next, or me, or bru-?"

"Just shut up!" She yelled, punching him across the face without thinking, huffing. "You may hold your life in very low regard, Gilbert Beilschmidt, but I don't!"

Gilbert stared at her with wide eyes, holding onto his cheek. She just scowled at him, but he saw her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she turned on her foot and stalked out of the kitchen. As soon as he heard the front door slamming he sighed and slumped back in his chair, looking down at the table. After a few minutes he heard someone clearing their throat and he looked up to see Germany standing in the doorway, a worried frown on his face.

"Bruder? What did she want?"

"Liz came to knock some sense into me, I think…a little too literally." Prussia laughed weakly, picking up his beer and taking a swig from it. Germany looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"I see…did she have any news?"

"_Nein_." Prussia sighed wearily. "No one knows what's going on, frankly…fuck, I just wish we knew _something_…"

"Maybe knowing nothing is better at the moment." Germany replied, shrugging as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "I'll be in my office, then. Tell me if you learn anything."

Prussia just nodded, staring down at the bottle in his hand before draining it of its contents and pulling out another, resigning himself to more long hours of contemplation.

oOoOoOo

Russia pored over the map of Europe, a chilling smile on his face as he made marks with a pen. This country was his, this country wasn't worth the trouble, a few more troops to that one…he plotted his next moves with an eerie calm. Belarus watched him work, twirling one of her many knives in the air and catching it. After almost an hour of this, however, she looked over at him and almost pouted.

"When do I get to go out again, Vanya?

"Soon, _sestra_." Russia replied, smiling as he looked up from his map. "I have plans for you, you just have to be patient."

"Why can't we just wipe them all out now?" Belarus moped, twirling her knife in her fingers. "I mean, come on, you almost got that America brat, the rest should be a piece of cake."

"So you would think, but it is not that easy, _sestra_." Russia sighed, looking back down on his map. "The fools cling to this silly idea of hope, and for some reason it makes them want to keep on fighting when they know they've lost."

"But hope won't last forever. Not when we've got them cornered." Belarus snorted, shrugging. Russia nodded absently, making more marks on his map. After a few minutes of silence there was a hesitant knock on the door. Russia looked up, smiling as he said.

"Come in, Italy."

The door opened slowly, and Italy peered inside, looking at Russia as he walked into the room on shaky legs. He set the stack of papers he had on an empty space on Russia's desk, swallowing nervously as he whispered.

"I-I finished sending out the orders."

"Good boy." Russia smiled, and Italy shivered visibly.

"Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"Not right now. Do get some rest, Italy-can't have you collapsing on duty, can we?" Russia smiled brightly, and Italy swallowed thickly before nodding.

"I-I'll do that…"

"See that you do. I expect you in here promptly at six. You are dismissed."

Italy bowed a bit before scurrying out of the room as fast as he could. Russia watched him go, and when he noticed Belarus' frown he chuckled.

"He's got the makings of a good pet already. He will serve us well."

"But we can't trust him." Belarus replied coldly, looking at her brother through her silver eyelashes. Russia just giggled, shaking his head as he bent over his map once more.

"Don't worry, he won't be stepping out of line anytime soon~"

oOoOoOo


End file.
